


Land of All

by kippers



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Getting Together, Jeremy-centric, Kings AU, Multi, OT6, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2018-11-05 07:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 116,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11008689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kippers/pseuds/kippers
Summary: Jeremy can't help but find himself bored with his life as a simple guard, and has always longed for an adventure. However, when a rumor of war from the Mad King threatens his village, he is sent to spy on the new alliance forming between the infamous four kings. Caught in a web of intrigue, lies, and secrets, will he ever make it out alive?





	1. Grim Tidings

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, hello! I haven't written a fic since I was just fifteen so I'm more than a bit rusty, haha. If you see any awful mistakes or bad characterizations, please do let me know! I would love to be able to improve in any way. I hope you enjoy!

Jeremy flopped down onto the tall grass, feeling the warm sunlight soak its way down into his skin. It was a bit itchy and uncomfortable, but the breeze was cool and light, so he found it hard to care. The distant sounds of birds and chatter floated by him like a dream, but it was soft and easily ignorable. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet summer air.

The world was quiet and peaceful, and Jeremy was bored of it all.

Trevor had once told him that finding boredom in peace was nothing but stupidity, but Jeremy had never been the smartest anyway. He let out a massive yawn, and settled into a more comfortable position.

Just as he began to doze off, he felt a sudden swipe of something wet and rough against his forehead. His eyes shot open in shock and he jolted forward, almost headbutting the rather bored looking sheep that stood above him. It stared at him dumbly before bending down to chew mechanically on a clump of grass.

He let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Gods, you scared me.”

“Did I? Sorry, I didn’t really mean to,” a voice laughed. A head peaked its way over the sheep, smiling mischievously.

“Trevor?” Jeremy gaped, sitting up. “What are you doing here?”

Trevor stood, giving the sheep a pat on the head. It lumbered away in search of more food. “I could ask the same of you,” he said accusingly. “Don’t you have a job to be doing? Lindsay needs you.”

Jeremy rubbed at his eyes. “I am doing my job. There’s plenty of potential threats around here.”

Trevor looked skeptically around at the rolling, green fields, dotted with swaying yellow flowers. Other than the occasional cluster of sheep, the area was completely empty. “I see,” he said thoughtfully.

“Ah! There’s one now!” Jeremy shot up, scooping his dulled spear off from the ground. He dropped into a defensive stance, pointing his spear aggressively at a small, red butterfly that had fluttered to a nearby flower. “Don’t worry Lindsay,” he grit out, brows pulling together in urgency. “I’ll protect you against this fiend of darkness. Even if it brings me to my dying breath.” Trevor rolled his eyes. The butterfly took off, gently flying around the aimed spear and landing carefully on Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy’s eyes widened comically. “Alas! I’ve been bested! Oh, cruel irony!” He sank to his knees as the butterfly flew away. “This is the end of me, my friend.” He raised a shaky hand towards Trevor. “Please, tell Lindsay…that she was a shitty queen.” He collapsed to the ground, his tongue lolling out.

Trevor let out an involuntary laugh as Jeremy gargled out some dying noises. “Alright, I get it,” he said, giving his prone friend a soft kick in the side. “Instead of being a bodyguard, I think your true calling is in acting.” He plucked a few flowers and threw them into Jeremy’s open mouth. “Bravo.”

Jeremy sat back and spat them out, giving him an indignant look. “You never actually told me why you came over here in the first place. Though I wouldn’t doubt it if you just came here to bother me.”

“Ah, sweet Jeremy, the entire meaning of my existence is to bother you.” Trevor flopped down next to him, stretching out his long legs. As he did, something hard poked against his thigh, and he moved to pull the object out from under him. It was a thick, leather-bound notebook, well-worn and almost bursting with various things sticking out of it. “What’s this?” he questioned, turning it over in his hands.

Jeremy’s eye twitched. “That’s nothing,” he said hurriedly. “Give it back.”

“Oho?” Trevor smiled slyly and easily leaned out of Jeremy’s grasp. He opened the notebook and began to quickly scan the pages as Jeremy scrambled over him, reaching desperately to grab it back. “You wrote a story about knights and dragons? This is surprisingly romantic of you.” He said as he read a couple lines of Jeremy’s scribbled handwriting.

“Come on! Give it back already, you shit,” Jeremy spat. Still, despite his best efforts, Trevor continued to wriggle his way out of his grasp, like some sort of determined, rude worm.

“Wait, what’s this?” Trevor turned the page and wrinkled his brow in confusion. It was a couple rather sketchy drawings of a man, looking stately and composed in one, and laughing and joyous in another. In the last sketch, the man looked off into the distance, his expression troubled and heavy. As Trevor studied the drawings in amazement, Jeremy took the chance to rip the book away from him and scramble back a few steps out of his reach, sighing in relief. “Was that…” Trevor trailed off, scratching at his chin in thought. “Was that King Geoff, by any chance?”

Jeremy flushed, his eyes wide, confirming Trevor’s guess. Though the drawings were loose, it was easy to compare the art to the likeness of the famous king: the tired eyes, the thin brows and the scruffy facial hair were all indicative of this. “I never realized you met the king.” Trevor continued, a bit cautiously. Jeremy looked like a small, cornered animal ready to bolt at any moment. Then Jeremy sighed, running his hands through his hair in a sheepish way.

“I did meet him once back when I was twenty,” Jeremy admitted quietly. He eyed Trevor carefully, as if sizing up his reactions. Trevor schooled his expression into something that he hoped looked friendly and open as he sat next to his friend. It seemed to work, thankfully, as Jeremy nodded almost imperceptibly to himself, as if Trevor had passed some sort of test. “I was in a bad place back then. Didn’t have a home or money or anything like that. Not much reason to live either.” He let a gentle sigh.

The wind seemed to quiet around them, and down in the village a distant bell started to toll, chiming brightly in the warm air.  It rang twelve times, signaling the halfway point in the day, and the sun appeared to almost intensify in response, beating down harshly over their heads.

“And...that’s when King Geoff showed up,” Jeremy continued, shuffling nervously.  “His hunting party was making its way through town, and I remember everyone gathered to see him off, so I made my way there as well, hoping to pick some person’s pocket or something like that.” Jeremy gave a fond smile, his eyes staring off into some distant scene Trevor couldn’t quite see. “I was clumsy though, and I got caught by the guard. But as they were taking me away, King Geoff came over. I’ll never forget the look he gave me. It wasn’t pity, or disgust or anything like I was used to. Just kindness. Then he patted me on the back, gave me a flask of alcohol, and told me to get my shit together before sending me on my way.”

Trevor gave a laugh of surprise. “I think I was expecting something a bit more sweet than that, honestly. But twenty, huh? Wasn’t that the age you started working for Lindsay?” he asked, slowly starting to put the pieces together.

Jeremy puffed his chest out a little. “Yep. After that I really did get my shit together. Lindsay took me in, gave me a home. But King Geoff…” He averted his eyes, looking embarrassed again. “He was kind of my hero, you know? And it’s been my dream to someday fight for him, I guess.”

“Well, don’t let Lindsay hear that, or she might arrest you for treason.” Trevor snorted, giving Jeremy a soft flick to the forehead. “Speaking of Lindsay arresting you,” Trevor said, snapping his fingers together. “That’s why I came to talk to you in the first place. She sent me out to go bring you back to her. Says she wants to speak to you.”

Jeremy stood up abruptly, staring down at Trevor in shock. “She wants to speak with me?” In all the years he had worked for her she had never once asked for him like that. Lindsay was the type to struggle on her own. Even if she was drowning in a lake of some sort and Jeremy was standing five feet away with a rope, she would still never ask for help. “Why didn’t you tell me that first?”

“Well we got distracted with fiends of darkness and confessions of love.” Trevor shrugged, rifling around absently in Jeremy’s bag. He pulled out a shiny, red apple and looked at it happily.

“Confessions of love, huh,” Jeremy huffed. He strapped his spear on his back and yanked his bag away from Trevor, stuffing his notebook back inside. “Well, I’d better be going then. Thanks for all your help, you useless shit.”

“Hey, I’m a scientist, not a messenger,” Trevor said indignantly, taking a bite out of the crisp apple. “Run on now, your glorious queen awaits. If you need me, I’ll be here with your lunch.” He gave Jeremy a salute with his apple, and settled down into a lounging position.

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy yourself.” Jeremy gave him a half wave as he turned to make his descent towards town. The wind returned, blowing back his hair from his sweaty forehead. He felt a bit nervous wondering what Lindsay could want from him, but he doubted it was that she actually wanted to fire him, like Trevor had been suggesting. She had even been the one to show him this location so that Jeremy could laze about. She was a good queen, and was serious where it counted, but never particularly minded Jeremy’s less than stellar work ethic lately. If anything, Lindsay encouraged it.

It was midday, so the small town was bustling with activity as Jeremy made his way through it. He threaded his way through people pushing carts bursting with produce, horses towing piles of luggage, and kids laughing and playing. Though the province of Kazoo was fairly new in terms of its independence, it was already flourishing and growing at an amazing pace under Lindsay’s rule. People loved the appeal of a nation free from the oppressive taxes, paranoia, and laws that came under the Mad King’s land, and were eager to make it their home.

An old man he knew shoved a bag of radishes in his arms and patted his head fondly. A couple kids raced over to Jeremy and circled him, laughing about how they had finally beat him in height. A older woman he walked home a couple times blew him a kiss from a window. It was his home.

As he ducked his way under a man offering pastries, a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder and yanked him inside a darkened alleyway, spinning him around sharply.

“Jeremy, over here! I have something for you,” a voice whispered.

Jeremy squinted at the figure shrouded in shadows. “Larry, is that you? What the hell are you doing?”

Larry looked around nervously. He was wearing a rather large, bulky coat, and he reached into it. He grinned strangely. “I got something you might want.” Larry was something of a traveling salesman, but even more than that, a mystery. Jeremy was never quite sure what to expect when the man made his way into town.

“I don’t have any money-” Jeremy started, but what was cut off as Larry shoved a potion bottle into his hands.

“Enjoy! You owe me one.” Larry called out as he scampered down the alleyway.

Jeremy stared down at the bottle in his hands, his face breaking out into an awed smile. The glowing liquid sloshed around in the glass. “Larry, you shifty fuck.” He laughed, pocketed the bottle for later use, and made his way back out of the alley.

As he continued down the cobblestone pathway, he couldn’t help but feel like the air in town was a bit off today. People were gathered in groups, looking down at papers, their voices hushed and agitated. _I wonder what Lindsay fucked up today_ , he thought absently as he exited the village and started on the pathway to Lindsay’s cathedral.

Though Lindsay was technically a queen, she had no castle to reside in yet. Instead, she ruled from a large, old cathedral that sat overlooking the town on a hill. Though her subjects insisted she begin construction on some sort of castle or fort as soon as possible, Lindsay had declined, pointing out that the location one ruled from didn’t affect anything. Still, at Jeremy and Kdin’s insistence, they ended up erecting a small wall around the cathedral. It could barely keep out a sheep, let alone a creeper, but it was at least something. Jeremy gave that wall a frown and a kick as he passed through it, dislodging a couple stones. He knew there wasn’t much to worry about in such a peaceful area, but he still disliked the idea of how easy trouble could work its way into here, if it ever came.

The midday sun slipped behind a cloud as he made his way up to the cathedral, nodding at the one guard, Andy, stationed in front of the door. Andy gave a yawn and a nod in return before settling back into a nap. Jeremy pulled the thick wooden doors open and stepped cautiously inside.

“Lindsay?” he called out. His voice reverberated through the high, arched ceiling, echoing back to him in an almost mocking way. He scanned the empty pews, perplexed. The eyes of people in the various paintings seemed to follow him as he walked down towards the altar, his footsteps echoing noisily on the tiled floor. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, washing him in a rainbow of colors. “Lindsay, you here?” Silence answered him once more, and he pursed his lips nervously.

Lindsay wasn’t in the backroom either, in the archives, or even in the vaults, and Jeremy felt a cold sweat began to prick at his brow. But, as he made his way outside towards the cloister, he felt relief flood him as he saw a familiar blonde sitting among the flowers. He wiped the sweat off his forehead as the stress drained out of him. Of course she was outside. Jeremy wasn’t sure why he was so jittery today, but the reason was probably Trevor related.

He watched as a black cat approached Lindsay, its tail sashaying in the warm air. It sniffed at Lindsay’s open palm curiously, before trotting away, bored. “Kitty, no…” Lindsay whispered, crestfallen.

Though it had only been a few hours since Jeremy had seen her last, he was struck by how much older she looked. Her ever-present, dreamy smile was gone, replaced by a strangely somber expression, her brows pulled together and her eyes dark with some unidentifiable expression. This kind of Lindsay was almost like a stranger to him, and Jeremy almost turned and walked away. But as he considered running away, Lindsay caught sight of him, her lips quirking into almost a grimace-like smile. “You made it,” she said.

Jeremy felt terribly awkward, as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have, and he rubbed at his neck. “I almost didn’t, since you decided to send Trevor to get me.”

Lindsay gave a small laugh. “Sorry about that. I wanted to keep this between people I trusted.” She patted the bench next to her. “Take a seat.”

All of his quips and sarcasm died on his lips when he saw the conflicted look on her face. “Is everything alright?” he asked softly, taking his place next to her on the bench.

Water softly trickled from a fountain in the center of the clearing of the cloister, and the cat sat on top of it, watching Jeremy with unblinking, amber eyes. Lindsay let out a small sigh. “Have you heard the news yet?”

Jeremy stared at her, confused. Considering how vaguely she worded the question, Jeremy supposed that the news she was asking about was so important that if he did hear about it, he would know immediately what she was talking about. However, he had spent the entire morning lazing about, and wasn’t one for current events anyway. “No?” he answered. 

“I guess that’s not too surprising,” she mused. “The breaking news is that the Four Kings have formed an alliance. They plan on getting together and signing a treaty by the end of the month. I’ve known this for about a week now, but the news became public today.” She stared at him straight on, gauging his reaction.

Jeremy gaped back at her, his mind blank. An alliance? In the thousands of years the various generations of the Four Kings had ruled, there had never been any sort of alignment between them at any time. His first instinct was to ask if she was joking, but the seriousness in her eyes took those words right out of his mouth. Instead he asked, “What does that mean?” His voice was small and unsure.

“It means trouble.” Lindsay frowned deeply, tugging at a strand of her hair loose from her bun. “I’m sure you know how this nation was formed by a war with the Mad King.” Jeremy nodded attentively. Though he had not been in this place when the short battle had taken place, he had witnessed the aftermath. Even with the death and the destruction and the despair, there had been an underlying current of hope and excitement.  _The Phoenix Queen,_  they had called Lindsay, whispered low in tones of reverence and awe. Lindsay did not start the rebellion, but she did end it. According to witnesses, she had been slain in battle and left for dead. But, as victory seemed assured for the Mad King’s army, she rose again, cutting down the general, and turning the tides for everyone. Wreathed in the flames and blood of battle, she was crowned queen.

“Yeah, I know of it.”

Lindsay shook her head sadly. “The thing is, I don’t have the slightest idea as to why they have formed this alliance. But if there is one thing I do know, it’s that the Mad King desires revenge. He was humiliated that day. There is no doubt that a man such as him does not wish to crush us now that he has the support in which to do so.”

“You think…that the Mad King will use this alliance to fight us again?” Jeremy questioned. His throat was getting uncomfortably dry.

“It is what I suspect, yes. But if the Mad King does come again, it won’t be a mere fight. It will be a massacre. He let us off easy last time. It will not be the same again.” Lindsay pursed her lips. “I wish that this were only a hunch of mine, but guards have already reported seeing his soldiers gather at our borders, watching. They are coming, Jeremy. Such a thing is inevitable.”

Jeremy felt lightheaded. The sun was scorching, burning down onto his scalp and neck. He adjusted his thin shirt, as it was stuck to his chest with sweat. “Then we must prepare. Gather any available soldiers, enforce defenses-”

“No.” Lindsay cut him off sharply. “If this alliance is to truly happen, then anything we do will only delay our annihilation, rather than stop it.” She turned to him and grabbed his arms so hard it almost hurt, staring intensely into his eyes. “But I have an idea, and I need your help.”

Jeremy stared at the fire in her eyes and felt himself nod almost helplessly. “What do you need me to do?”

“I want you to spy for me.”

Of all the things Jeremy expected her to say, that was not one of them.

“You…want me to spy. Me. How would that solve anything?” His voice was dripping with disbelief. “I know that I did do some thieving in my life, but I never was really good at it, you know that right?” He always ended up getting caught more than he actually stole anything. At least there was food in jail.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Jeremy, you’re a small guy, right?”

“Wow, I had never actually noticed that before! Thanks for pointing it out,” he said, starting to feel a bit agitated.

“Listen!” Lindsay gripped him harder. “When you’re in a fight with someone a lot bigger than you, what do you do?”

In his case, that was pretty much most of the time. He scratched his head, not really seeing the point of the tangent. “Well, I try to find and exploit a weakness. Usually it’s the balls.” He shrugged unapologetically.

Lindsay released him and jumped up triumphantly. “Exactly! That’s what I’m sending you to do. I want you to sneak in there, find the metaphorical balls, and crush them.” She mimed a ball-crushing motion with her hands and Jeremy shifted uncomfortably.

“Look… Lindsay…” Jeremy paused and sighed heavily, rubbing at his eyes. “The thing about balls is that… well, they’re always in the same spot. If you send me in as this ‘spy’, or whatever, I’d not only have to find the weakness, I’d actually have to know what I’m looking for in the first place. All while being sneaky?” When the triumph started to fade from Lindsay’s eyes, he hurriedly waved his hands in front of him. “I’m not saying it’s an awful plan, Linds! Just that it isn’t for me.” He lowered his eyes, an almost ashamed feeling sneaking into his stomach. Lindsay never asked for much for him, and now that she was, he was refusing her. After all that she had done for him, who was he to think he had the right to do such a thing?

Lindsay shook her head in determination. “No. It has to be you. You wouldn’t be alone in this, either! I’d be sending you in with a small, elite team. They will train and help you in every way they can, and they will also be looking for this weakness as well.”

“What could I possibly have that these people don’t?”

Lindsay grinned. “It’s what you don’t have,” she said, as if she had said the smartest thing in the world. Jeremy felt a headache coming on. “You’re a pretty unassuming person. And you kind of give an air of someone that can’t do much, because, well, you can’t. No one will ever suspect you.”

“Keep complimenting me like that and I might become a narcissist.”

“But it’s not just that! You’re also easy going and friendly. If there’s anyone who can charm a king it’s you. I believe in you.”

 _Charm?_  He wondered. But then Lindsay was smiling down on him, and it was the same smile she gave the day they met, when she offered him a home. They both knew that she had won. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” he groaned quietly.

“I can’t either! This is going to be great.” Lindsay clapped her hands excitedly, and Jeremy couldn’t find it in him to be too upset.

After they agreed to meet up the next morning to discuss details and see the rest of her elite crew, Jeremy made his way back inside. In the cool dimness of the cathedral, he pulled his notebook out of his bag and flipped through it, landing on the page with the sketches of King Geoff that Trevor had mocked him about earlier. If Lindsay was correct in her assumptions, then that meant there was a chance King Geoff was involved as well. All this time, had he been looking up to someone who wasn’t even a hero in the first place? The thought of someone ruining everything that Lindsay had worked so hard to create made anger simmer low in his chest. He would never forgive the person that made all these smiles disappear, even if that person was his savior. But, as he poised himself to rip the page out, he felt himself hesitate. He couldn’t help but recall those kind, laughing eyes. The eyes that saved him. He put his book back into his bag.

Maybe he was just a romantic fool after all.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had long since disappeared under the horizon when Jeremy made his way back home.  He felt indescribably tired, and his feet dragged as he walked, as if there were an invisible weight on his shoulders. He was trying his best not to think about the depth of the job he had agreed to, but fears and anxiety were already wriggling their way past his defenses.

“Maybe she just wants to kill me off so she doesn’t have someone yelling at her to pick up her trash anymore,” he mumbled to no one in particular, fumbling for his key to his house. His place was small and under-furnished, sitting alone at the edge of town, but it was his, and he loved it. He supposed he was going to miss it. He wasn’t sure how long Lindsay’s dumbass spy plan was going to take, but he couldn’t imagine he’d be back here anytime soon, if at all. He was glad he never ended up adopting a cat, as he had been tempted to.

He unlocked the door and let himself it, taking a deep breath of the familiar, homey scent before lighting his lanterns. Warm, light flooded the room, and illuminated the hunched over figure currently sitting at his table.

Jeremy jumped violently, reaching back for his spear, shock thrumming through his veins.

“Woah there, Jeremy. It’s just me. No need to stab me, yeah?” the man said, raising his hands in a soothing gesture.

“Matt.” Jeremy breathed heavily in relief, but had half a mind to pull out his spear anyway. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Matt looked down at his hands. They were filled with the pastries Jeremy had bought yesterday, some half eaten. “Eating,” he replied simply.

“In the dark?” Jeremy asked, dumbfounded.

“I wanted to hide my shame,” Matt replied somberly, popping one of the half-eaten pastries in his mouth.

Jeremy sighed again and collapsed in the chair across from him. Jeremy hated being surprised more than anything, and that was the third time it had happened today. He wasn’t sure if his heart could take much more. “Give me one of those,” he said crossly, snatching one of the pastries away. He had been saving them for one of his weak days, and this was definitely one of them. The pastry was flaky and sweet, and he closed his eyes in contentment. He had a feeling his days of indulgence were ending soon.

“Hey Matt,” he asked after a few minutes of them sitting and eating. The lanterns flickered, casting long shadows across the room. “If you had the chance to do something good, but you knew that if you did take it, nothing would ever be the same again, would you still do it?”

Matt sat pensively for a second, brushing a few crumbs out of his beard. “Well, that’s a hard one. Either way, even if you didn’t want, you’d kinda have to do the good thing. ‘Cause like even if you didn’t do it, everything would change anyway when you’d have to live with that regret, you know?” He looked over at Jeremy, who was making a rather distasteful expression. “You’re not getting married or anything like that, are you?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our wedding?” Jeremy gasped dramatically.

“Forgot? More like repressed.” The two of them snorted. Jeremy turned the pastry around in his hand. “Why are you asking such strange questions anyway?” Matt asked softly.

“Kinda wanted to see what stupid answer you’d give,” Jeremy replied. “You did not disappoint.”

As Matt’s indignant protests filled the room, Jeremy watching the flickering flames of the lantern. He would leave for Achievement City by the end of the week, and the alliance would be signed by the end of the month. It had only been a few hours ago today that Jeremy had been lying in the grass, hating peace. But, even now, he still couldn’t make himself love the boredom that came with it.

He wondered if he would live long enough to regret this way of thinking.

 

* * *

 

 

“ _This_  is your elite team of spies?”

Jeremy stared incredulously at the people assembled in front of him, frantically hoping that he was somehow still dreaming.

“It is indeed!” Lindsay said proudly, hands on her hips. Though dawn had barely broken, painting the morning sky in soft pinks and yellows, Lindsay looked wide awake. In sharp contrast to her, Jeremy felt like death, having barely gotten any sleep last night. “Why don’t we all go around and introduce ourselves?”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” Jeremy said, voice dark.

“Hello! Mica Burton reporting. I’m an assassin,” the girl on the right started, making a chopping motion with her hand and striking a silly pose. She was the newest to Lindsay’s group, only arriving in their town a few months ago. Still, Jeremy had already considered her a friend and had many drinks and late night conversations with the friendly and chatty girl. “Sorry for keeping that from you. It’s part of the job and all.” She laughed. Jeremy felt a little betrayed.

“Next!” Lindsay called happily.

The man next to Mica took a step forward. “Yo! The name’s Trevor Collins, nice to meet you. I’m also an assassin! And I’m  _not_  sorry for keeping that from you because it was all worth it to see that stupid look on your face.” He gave a small bow before also posing in a cheesy way next to Mica. This was it. This was Jeremy’s nightmare scenario.

“And lastly!” Lindsay announced.

“Hey there, I’m Matt Bragg and I’m-“

“No. No, I refuse. Please don’t tell me that Matt is also an assassin,” Jeremy interrupted. He wasn’t sure he could take much more. His mind was one word away from imploding. “Please, I’m begging you, with every single fiber of my being.”

“Nah, I’m just a regular guy. But gods, could you imagine?” Matt said. They all laughed amiably at this. Jeremy’s soul was dead.

As Matt struck the final pose to mirror Mica, Lindsay knelt down in front of them and threw her arms up. “And all together they form- The B Team!” she cried. They all cheered and waved their hands in their dumb poses, looking at Jeremy expectantly.

Jeremy just watched them, the air slowly getting more and more awkward as he said nothing.

“I’m going home,” he said finally, turning to leave.

“No, wait!” Lindsay grabbed his arm, stopping him in his place. “They really are trained professionals, just give them a chance. Well, except Matt. He’s just Matt.”

Trevor walked over Jeremy and slung his arm over his shoulders. “Yeah, Jeremy! Put a little trust in us. I’m a  _professional_.” His smile was smug. “I mean I was an assassin in disguise the entire time we’ve known each other, and you never suspected me once. Just think of all the times I could’ve stabbed you.”

“Well then, stab me now. I’m actually asking you this. Please stab me,” Jeremy intoned.

“No one’s stabbing anyone,” Lindsay said, pushing them apart. “All of you are important to this mission. Now I have some meetings to get to, but if you need me, just holler. Have fun now!” She gave a friendly wave and followed a rather impatient looking Kdin back into the cathedral.

“Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll tell you our plan?” Mica suggested, patting the ground next to her.

Jeremy flumped down. “We actually have a plan? I figured we were just going to throw ourselves at the castle from a catapult and see what happens.”

Mica sat across from him, flanked by Trevor. Matt sat next to Jeremy, watching him almost nervously out of the corner of his eye. “Well, it’s not so much a plan as it is a guideline. Once we figure out what we are looking for, the real planning can begin.” Mica said, plucking a few strands of grass. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that there’s four of us here, just as there are four kings.”

“I haven’t noticed anything, but alright,” Jeremy said blankly.

“So each one of us-” She held up a strand of grass in one hand. “-is going to serve under one of the kings.” She held up a piece of grass in the other hand and pushed the two together, tying them in a loose knot. “The goal is simple. Work your way up through the ranks and gain the king’s trust. Then, in that position, find access to any and all secrets or weaknesses they might have.”

“You’re making that sound way too easy. How in the world do you expect us to befriend a king to that extent where they’ll roll over and show their belly? And where would we even find these secrets? Written in their diary tucked up under their bed? This is just ridiculous,” Jeremy pointed out.

“Don’t sell us, or yourself, short. Trevor and I have done this sort of thing for many years. We know what we’re doing,” Mica said, her voice a bit terse. “But we’ll get to all the logistics later. First things first, who gets what king.” Jeremy and Matt both leaned forward unconsciously. There was only one king Jeremy was sure he would get. “Trevor will get King Gavin- the Fool King. Since he is relatively new to royalty, there isn’t much we know about him. But, when I did a bit of digging, I found that he seems to have an interest in two things: science and pretty things. No offense to the two of you, but Trevor fits that bill much better.”

“None taken,” Matt said lightly, and Jeremy nodded and shrugged in agreement.

“Mica will get the Mad King,” Trevor said, and Jeremy let out a small breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “That will obviously be the hardest target, and there is honestly only a slim chance of success. Still, their personalities match a bit, and Mica is pretty talented, so you never know.” Trevor smiled, but it looked a bit strained.

“Matt, you’ll be with King Geoff. With your personality and…ah…particular set of skills, it should be fine for you.” Mica said, giving Matt a reassuring nod. “Also, Trevor told me that if we put Jeremy with King Geoff, he might end up being a bit biased.” She winked at him and Jeremy glared sharply at Trevor. “So that leaves Jeremy with-”

“The Feral King.” Jeremy said sullenly.

Mica nodded. “King Michael. He may seem like a daunting target, but he is not an impossible one. His people are ones that value brawn and honesty over most things; I believe you will fit right in with this.”

Jeremy had heard many things about the infamous Feral King: that he had taken on an entire army of mobs with only his bare hands, that he had once eaten the heart of a general to intimidate his people into surrendering, that he was not even entirely human. Jeremy swallowed dryly. “Quick question: how the hell do you expect me to charm this guy? Throw some raw meat at him?”

Mica chuckled. “Nothing like that. Just impress him with your strength and attitude and the rest should fall into place. I’ll spend the time we have before getting there training you into shape. Don’t overthink it, okay?”

He was definitely going to overthink it. His life was on the line here, so why shouldn’t he? But Mica had a tone of finality in her last statement, so he just frowned. “One last thing,” Jeremy started, ignoring her glare. “Why Matt?” He stared accusingly at the man sitting next to him, who was getting increasingly sweatier by the minute.

Trevor and Mica exchanged significant glances. “He has a specific talent that makes him invaluable to this mission. That’s all we can say for now.”

“Matt? Talented?” He gave his friend a condescending look. Matt grinned sheepishly at him. Jeremy stood up and huffed out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Don’t tell me. It’s not like we’re going to be a team or anything like that.”

“Are you mad?” Trevor asked, rubbing at his neck a bit guiltily.

Jeremy considered that question for a bit. “No, I’m not mad.” He said finally. “I just found half of my friends are assassins and one of them is suspiciously ‘talented’. So how do you think I feel?”

If anything, he was just a bit put out. He didn’t mind people keeping secrets, as he also had plenty of his own. But he couldn’t help but feel he had been the butt of a joke this entire time, and his cheeks flamed a bit at the thought. He turned away from his friends and let out another steadying breath. He felt a hand pat his back unsurely.

“We’ll all work through this as a team, yeah? The kings won’t know what hit them,” Trevor said, his voice warm.

“Or I’ll get caught by all four of them and they’ll take turns chopping my head off,” Jeremy muttered darkly. But he turned around and rejoined the group, giving them a reluctant nod. “So, should we begin, then?”

 

* * *

 

 

The week leading up to their departure was one of the most exhausting of Jeremy’s life. He wasn’t an out of shape guy or anything like that, but he had definitely let his body get more lax over the years working under Lindsay. Mica pushed him relentlessly from morning to the dead of night; sparring with him, forcing him to carry heavier and heavier weights, making him run complex obstacles without making a sound. Every night he had barely enough energy to shove a loaf of bread in his mouth before he passed out into a dreamless sleep.

He had the most trouble, predictably, with the stealth exercises. “Keep low to the ground!” Mica barked as he slammed his head into a plank of wood. “Breathe through your mouth! Stop putting all of your weight onto your heels like that, you sound more like a rampaging bull than a human.” As Jeremy tripped head-first over a pile of roof tiles, she conceded that he was hopeless. “Just leave all that sneaking stuff to Trevor and I,” she sighed as Jeremy rubbed his bruised shin. To add insult to injury, Matt was actually pretty good at the exercises. Jeremy knew that Matt did some hunting, but he didn’t realize that he was good at what he did. He watched from the floor, amazed, as Matt rolled silently out from the open into some cover. He entertained the idea that maybe his sneaking ability was the talent that Mica had alluded to earlier, but quickly dismissed the idea. If that had really been it, they would’ve just told Jeremy, rather than keeping it a secret.

After that, Mica shifted her focus to help him shape up his fighting skills instead. Jeremy was already pretty decent at sparring, but as Trevor shoved his face into the dirt for the tenth time, he had to admit that he could have room for improvement. “Remember that we short people have an advantage: our core is closer to the ground,” Mica pointed out. “It’s easy to upset the balance of a taller opponent if you play it smart.” She shot her leg out and tripped Trevor suddenly, letting him fall to the ground with a loud thump as she laughed in triumph.

Every time that week Jeremy brought up a question on what exactly they would be doing in Achievement City, Mica and Trevor would shoot him down immediately. “We’ll go over all that fun stuff on the trip there,” Trevor said, crossing his arms. The fastest route to Achievement City meant a week-long trip on a ship across the sea, a trip that he was not particularly looking forward to.

However, beaten, bruised and tired, Jeremy was almost relieved when they made it to the day of their departure. Still, he was struck with a wave of sadness as he locked up his tiny house for the last time. “I’ll be back,” he reassured himself as he stared up at the empty windowsills, but the words felt nothing but hollow.

It was only a short walk through the village to the docks, and the four of them set out along with Lindsay, Kdin, Andy, and various other villagers following behind. Mica and Andy walked together, heads huddled together as they talked in hushed tones with solemn faces. Matt, Kdin and Trevor exchanged half-hearted quips.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Lindsay asked as the docks drew closer. She was smiling, but was playing with her hair a bit anxiously.

Jeremy softly smiled, stroking the head of the horse that carried their luggage. “Well, I wouldn’t say I'm okay with it, but I’ll do it for you. You owe me big after this, though.”

“Telling a queen that she owes you? Yeah, you’re definitely doomed for this mission.” The two of them laughed, but Jeremy couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

They approached the docks and he stepped toward the horse, pulling his bags from their carriage. There was an awkward silence as they all shuffled around, grabbing their things and preparing for their journey.

“Well, I guess this is it?” Matt said, the sea breeze ruffling his hair. Jeremy stared pointedly at the ocean. The first light of dawn glittered on the waves, and seagulls circled the large, wooden boats, diving at any unattended fish they could find.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Andy responded, looking slightly lost. Mica let out a cry and vaulted forward to pull him into a hug, almost pushing them both to the ground.

 As Lindsay patted Matt’s head, Jeremy walked over to Kdin. “Take care of Lindsay, alright?” he said.

“She’ll be fine,” Kdin laughed, and Jeremy let out a relieved smile. He pulled her into a quick hug, before yanking Andy away from Mica long enough to give him a hug as well.

“Stay safe, man,” Andy said. He was unaware of what exactly the four of them were doing, but he knew enough to know that it was dangerous and might take a while. His eyes shined.

Finally, Jeremy turned to Lindsay, a strange, hot feeling settling in his throat. “If you die, I’ll never forgive you,” Lindsay said, punching his shoulder.

“You know as well as I do that the only way I’ll ever die is tripping over the shit you leave on the floor.”

Her smile turned pained. “I’m gonna miss you.” She pulled him into an embrace.

Jeremy had a million things that he wanted to say _: thank you for saving my life, thank you for being my friend, thank you for being my home._

_I’ll miss you too._

Instead, the words tangled with each other and got stuck, and he said nothing as she pulled away from him, patting his shoulder sadly.

A sailor barked at them to hurry up, and the four of them said their final goodbyes before making their way up the gangplank, the wood shaking under their feet. As sailors around them frantically pulled at ropes, they walked to the back of the ship so they could see their friends waving at them from the dock. The sails unfurled and began to billow out under the wind, pushing the ship out slowly into the water.

“Goodbye!” Andy called from the docks, jumping up and down. “Bring me back a souvenir!”

“We won’t!” Trevor yelled back.

The ship began to gain speed, and Jeremy waved at Lindsay. The sun glowed behind her, washing her hair in golden light, as if she had a halo. She was smiling brightly, waving frantically as the ship slowly gained speed. Kdin and Andy yelled a final goodbye before they walked back to the horses and began to make the trek away from the docks. Lindsay stayed, her waving slowing as they pulled farther away.

 A hand slammed heavily on his back. “Don’t get all sentimental on me,” Mica said, but Jeremy could see that her eyes were tinged with red. She gave him a bittersweet smile before she and Trevor made their way below decks.

Jeremy twisted back to look at the docks one last time. Lindsay’s smile was gone, and her brows were drawn together miserably. Her waving slowed to a stop, and she pulled her hand down limply at her side. As the ship pushed out further, her face became indistinguishable in the distance. Alone on the docks, her dark figure seemed to hunch in on itself. Jeremy watched her as she became smaller and smaller, no more than a black dot over the sea.

“Next stop, Achievement City,” he said quietly. Her figure disappeared completely, and he turned to look at the endless horizon.


	2. Wicked Eyes

Jeremy stared out into the sea, watching the setting sun glint off the undulating waves, painting it in warm oranges and gold. The cool wind buffeted his hair and shirt, coating his body in a thin layer of salt. In the distance, sailors shouted various things to each other over the roar of the water as their ship cut easily through the dark ocean.

The world was peaceful and quiet again, and Jeremy was still fucking bored.

He groaned and leaned farther over the railing, turning his head as Mica made her way to him with Matt and Trevor in tow. She grinned at him triumphantly, her boots thunking loudly against the wooden floor. “I’ve managed to memorize the crew’s schedules, so if we stay here we have a nice three-hour window to talk things out. But, you know, it’s still sensitive information, so try to be a little quiet,” she said, hands on her hips.

“We can talk about our secret spy mission now?!” Jeremy yelled out into the sea.

Mica whacked his head. “Fine, be a smartass. Anyway, we have a lot of ground to cover, so I’m just going to start.” Matt slunk over next to Jeremy and leaned against the railing, his hair whipping around his face erratically with the wind. He grumbled and fished in his pockets for a hair tie to hold it up. Mica pulled over a couple of crates, and she and Trevor sat on them unceremoniously. Jeremy noted that they both looked pointedly tired, with dark circles rimming their eyes. Mica opened her bag, pulled out two scrolls, and passed them out to the two of them. Jeremy unfurled his and looked at the contents curiously. “That’s your paperwork. You’re going to need it to get in the city and into the castle. Don’t lose it.” She eyed Matt significantly, and he gave a sheepish grin. 

“We’ve taken the liberty of changing your backgrounds of course,” Trevor said, fiddling with a bit of rope. “But we kept your first names the same. We can’t have you guys messing up everything just because you can’t remember your own name.”

“I’m a fisherman that longs to serve the king?” Jeremy said, laughing gently as he scanned the scroll. “That’s fine by me, honestly.”

“Well you do know how to fish pretty expertly, so it seemed like a good choice.” Trevor shrugged. Jeremy had always been fond of fishing. At first, it had been an easy way to get free food, but when he got placed under Lindsay’s care, it had become something of an indulgence- a way to block out the rest of the world.

“I have a question,” Jeremy ventured, rolling his scroll back up and packing it carefully inside my bag. “Will I be a part of King Michael’s personal guard? Is that where I’ll have to spy from?”

Trevor gave a hearty chuckle. “We aren’t gods, Jeremy. There’s no way that we could’ve been able to place you into his guard, even with all of our resources combined. Unfortunately, you’ll have to work your way from the bottom up. We only got you into the castle. You’ll need to get through some trials in order to get into his guard, and hopefully promote your way up from there.”

It took all of his effort to not fling himself off the bow of the ship and swim his way back to Lindsay. “Right,” he said instead, through gritted teeth. “I see. And what exactly will these ‘trials’ entail?”

Trevor’s grin turned more nervous. “I don’t exactly know, actually. With the Feral King’s reputation, though, it definitely won’t be anything fun.” He patted Jeremy’s back in what he assumed was supposed to be a comforting way. “You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

Jeremy sincerely doubted that. Instead of saying that aloud, he pointed a finger at Matt. “And what will he have to do?”

Matt jolted under his condemning glare. “I’m going to be a construction worker.” He said, looking nervously at Trevor and Mica, as if waiting for their approval. “Because of the alliance, they’re supposedly building homes to house the other kings in Achievement City. I’m going to help out with that, and hopefully impress King Geoff with-” He was cut off suddenly by an intense stare from Trevor. “-my building?” he continued unsurely.

“You shouldn’t worry about us, Jeremy.” Mica interjected. “Just focus on yourself.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.” Jeremy muttered.

“But don’t think that you’re alone in this, or anything like that.” Trevor pointed out. “We’re a team, and communication between us is very important.”

“Annoying contradictions aside, how would we even go about doing that?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Mica piped up excitedly. She reached in her bag and pulled out a medium sized object, covered by a thin blanket. “I’d like to introduce you to your new best friend.” She pulled off the blanket in a dramatic flourish, revealing a cage that contained the stupidest looking bird Jeremy had ever seen. It was a dumpy, cross-eyed pigeon that was currently pecking at the bars of the cage.

“Holy shit. Who is this idiot?” Jeremy said, leaning down to look in one of the bird’s rolling eyes.

Mica whacked at him indignantly with her other hand again. “This is Pudgers, and he is the smartest bird you will ever meet.”

 “What kind of name is Pudgers?” Jeremy asked. The bird cooed a greeting, tilting its head fondly. _It’s actually pretty cute_ , Jeremy thought.

“I’m going to call it Timothy,” Jeremy declared.

“You can’t rename my damn bird.” Mica pulled the cage away from Jeremy in an almost protective way.

“How about a compromise? We can call him Sir Timothy Pudgers.” Matt suggested. Jeremy and Trevor nodded eagerly in agreement. Pudgers cooed happily. “See, he likes it!”

“You’re not-” Mica stopped and sighed heavily, her face in her hands. “Never mind. This is pointless. Look, this extremely intelligent and beautiful bird whose name is Pudgers and only Pudgers, will be our way of communication.” She opened the cage and the bird hopped out onto her hand. She tapped the small metal cylinder attached to its leg. “If you find anything out, or need help, just write out a message and place it in here. If you tell Pudgers one of our names, he should take it to us.” She lifted her hand. “Pudgers, go to Trevor.” Pudgers gave a couple excited hops and flew over to Trevor, landing on his head.

“I won’t lie, that’s pretty incredible.” Jeremy gaped up at the bird as it settled into Trevor’s hair.

“Right?” Mica beamed proudly. “If you want to call him to you to send something, you just need to do this.” She pursed her lips and whistled a clear, loud tune. Pudgers took off and landed back on Mica’s outstretched hand. “He’ll be around. We’ll teach you a code that you can write in as well, in case he gets intercepted.”

Jeremy hummed the tune to himself a couple times, hoping he would remember it. As Mica placed the bird back into his cage, Trevor stepped forward and flung his arms around Matt and Jeremy. “The next order of business is something perhaps even more important: etiquette.” Matt seemed to wither under his grip. Jeremy froze. Ah, right. That was an issue. “For the first time in history, we’ll be caught between the intersection of four different kingdoms, each with entirely separate codes and rules that need to be followed. Any sort of misstep will lead to either imprisonment or death, so try to follow along!” he exclaimed cheerily.

For the next several hours, he and Matt were lectured extensively on various laws and etiquette within each of the four kingdoms. Jeremy tried his hardest to follow along with everything, but he quickly became overwhelmed with the information. The expectations of each kingdom also overlapped and contradicted each other. While the Fool King’s people found it offensive to look someone ranking over you directly in the eye, King Michael’s kingdom saw cowardice in the act. The Mad King demanded people to prostrate themselves before him and his officials, but King Geoff saw such servitude as something silly and unnecessary. From the way one eats their food, to the way one said hello, each kingdom had lengthy prospects for every aspect of life. By the time he collapsed in his hammock in the ship’s sleeping area, his head was throbbing with all the information. Surrounded by a symphony of snores from all the sailors, it was a long time before he was able to fall asleep.

Their week on the sea passed by excruciatingly slow. Jeremy alternated his time on the ship between sparring with Mica and Trevor, learning about the kingdoms with Matt, practicing the spies coded language, working out, and bonding with Pudgers. The bird took a surprising liking to Jeremy, and spent most of his time nesting and shitting in Jeremy’s hair, to Mica’s dismay.

“It’s only because your hair is so straw-like,” she insisted, pouting.

“Probably. But if he makes me go bald, I’ll roast him and serve him with some potatoes.” Jeremy said fondly, patting the small bird’s head.

His sparring did not improve much over the week, though Trevor asserted he was making considerable progress. Still, his pride and body were both heavily bruised as he was once again unable to topple Trevor to the ground.

“You almost got it!” Trevor cheered as Jeremy laid on the deck, breathing heavily. He offered his hand. Jeremy didn’t take it.

The day before they would arrive at Achievement City, Trevor gave him the day off from sparring, to Jeremy’s relief. He was sore, injured, and exhausted from lack of sleep. His stomach felt ill from the lukewarm, flavorless sailor food that had become his diet, and his clothes felt permanently encrusted with salt. His body was vibrating with nerves, and he felt unable to sit still. Anxious, he decided to jog a couple laps around the boat, hoping that would soothe some of his nerves.

As he made his way around the deck, he noticed that the usual boisterous crew seemed abnormally subdued, gathered towards the starboard side, eyes cast out watchfully towards the sea. They pointed at the purple, heavy clouds in the distance, nervously talking together. Jeremy made his way over to the crowd, squinting at the horizon. He turned to the captain: a tall, composed woman with browned, leathered skin from her days at sea and a cloud of light brown hair.

“Are we about to die or something?” he questioned. The water below them was becoming increasingly choppy, churning and dark. The sails whipped around unpredictably.

The captain looked over at Jeremy and her eyes wrinkled into a smile. “Hello there, little one,” she said, her voice husky and accented. “We perhaps may die, if the gods decide it so. This storm is pushing us into the Guardian’s territory.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed. “The Guardians?”

“It does not surprise me that you do not know of them. Their appearance began only quite recently,” she said, crossing her muscled arms. The sailors around them began to whisper. One of them began to murmur a prayer. “They are mysterious and dangerous creatures of sea, fiends of the old gods. They guard temples under the waves, temples that are said to house immeasurable treasures. However, no man has yet been able to retrieve them. They have already claimed thousands of lives and hundreds of ships from my unsuspecting brethren, and their territory has become a graveyard of wood and bone.”

Jeremy peered back down at the murky water. Though it was still daytime, it was already rather dark outside, the sun hidden behind a blanket of clouds. “That’s pretty terrifying,” he said nervously. “If I had to choose a death between being torn apart by a storm or being eaten by demon sea creatures, I’d probably choose the storm.”

The captain eyed him thoughtfully. “It is an interesting decision, I suppose. But these creatures do not consume their victims. Instead, they emit powerful beams that can dissolve a person in nothingness, it is said.”

“I’ve ‘eard they has razor-sharp spikes on their body that can impale ya,” A sailor piped up, before bending over to hack up a lob of spit.

“It is also said that even sailing near their turf can cause even the most stubborn of minds to be broken down into nightmares and hallucinations of their machinations,” the navigator added, pushing her spectacles up her nose nervously.

Any way you put it, it is a horrific demise,” the captain mused. One of the sailors listening in began to sob. The captain looked around guiltily at all the terrified faces of her men. She cleared her throat. “It is lucky that I am one of the most talented captains on this side of the sea. If there is anyone that can find the line between these two dangerous locations, it is I. You need not worry.” She spoke this last part louder and more confidently. “Everyone get back to work. We must turn this ship 12.5 degrees to the west. There is no room for error.”

As the crew began to disperse and return to their jobs, the captain turned to Jeremy one last time, an inexplicable heaviness in her eyes. “For a long time, the sea was the only safe haven for travel. Now that this no longer so, we live in a dangerous, unforgivable world.” Jeremy nodded pensively. At night, the land became infested with various mobs. Though larger cities were able to drive the monsters off, travel between towns at night was only possible for the brave or the stupid. Because the ocean and rivers were free of these mobs, boats had become the preferred method for multiple day travel, even if it was not necessarily the fastest.

“There is a shadow coming upon our world, little one. If the waters have become cruel, I believe the rest of the world shall follow soon as well.” She stretched an arm out and ruffled his hair. “Prepare for the worst. The change is coming soon,” she said, smiling sadly before walking back to her cabin. Jeremy stared out at the dark, festering clouds, an unsettling feeling brewing in his stomach.

He didn’t get much sleep that night either, his dreams wrought with visions of eyes: unblinking and ever present, watching him as he sank lower and lower into the depths of the ocean. As he jolted awake from his nightmares for a third time, heart pounding and shirt soaked with sweat, he gave up on the idea of sleep. The sleeping area was almost completely empty for once, the hammocks swaying gently with the rocking of the ship. Jeremy sighed and pulled on his boots. He made his way outside, his footing unstable. On the deck, the sailors worked tirelessly, pulling at ropes and yelling various coordinates and directions to each other. He took in a big gulp of the fresh air, letting the wind buffer his fears away. The storm still seethed on the edge of the horizon, but was still thankfully out of reach.

Jeremy made his way to the back of the ship, where the four of them had most of their meetings. It was empty except for one tall, thin figure, illuminated vaguely in the dim moonlight. The figure stayed silent as Jeremy approached and stood next to him, leaning out on the railing.

“Can’t sleep either?” he questioned.

Trevor regarded him out of the corner of his eye. “Well, if we were going to die, I wanted to be awake to see it.” They fell into a companionable silence as they looked out at the night sky. After a while, Trevor let out a small sigh. “Ah, stars. An assassin’s worst friend,” he said. The sky in front of them was surprisingly clear, revealing millions of twinkling lights among the bloated moon.

“I thought I was the assassin’s worst friend,” Jeremy said.

Trevor let out a hearty laugh. “Perhaps so.”

Jeremy watched his friend, head tilted in thought. So much had happened these past two weeks that he had never really digested the thought that his best friend was not what had he thought all of this time. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how to feel about this whole thing. Even with this new revelation, Trevor still looked and acted exactly the same; still stupidly tall and still stupidly obnoxious.

“So…this assassin thing…how’d that come about anyway?” Jeremy asked, genuinely curious.

Trevor’s smile twisted into something a bit somber. “I wonder that myself. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and bit at his lip. “Oh,” he said, awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Trevor gave a rueful smile. “You know, in my kind of work, you don’t get a chance to ever settle down or make long lasting relationships or anything. Makes it hard to find the value in things.” He leaned against the railing of the ship, propping his head up by his hand so he could watch Jeremy. “But when I met you and Matt, I suppose things changed. Being friends with you guys…it was the first time I had something a little more tangible. At least…I hope it is.” Trevor was still smiling, but his eyebrows were pulled together, and the moonlight cast long shadows on his face.

Jeremy gave a fond, small smile. “Trevor, you could be an endermen in disguise and I’d still be your friend, alright? Now let’s stop that conversation right there before I puke, you sap.” He wasn’t sure why, but Trevor talking like that made him a bit nervous, like they were just inviting the universe to come fuck things up.

Trevor held his hands up in surrender, but the grin on his face seemed genuine now. “Fine, fine.” He eyes continued to search Jeremy with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. “Jeremy…how are you feeling about everything? I never really got the chance to ask you.”

“Not particularly well, honestly,” Jeremy admitted. “No matter what way I picture this going, I can only imagine myself ending up dead.”

Trevor seemed to stiffen. “Is that the worst-case scenario for you? Death?”

Jeremy wrinkled his brow in confusion. “I mean, yes? Maybe a painful death, instead, one with lots of tiny spikes or something like that.”

Trevor’s face contorted into something painful, seeming at war with different thoughts in his head. “You do realize how much is at stake here, right?” he started, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “The worst thing that could happen is not your death. The worst-case scenario is that you get caught.” He paused for a minute, letting his words sink into the tepid air. Jeremy just stared, at a complete loss for words. “If you get discovered, it won’t be just your life at stake, or even all four of our lives. It will be Lindsay’s as well, and all of the people that she rules. Thousands of people. Do you understand?”

Jeremy gaped at him, his heart beginning to race again. “I think…. I think that what I understand is that I shouldn’t be doing this.” Jeremy said, his voice thick. “I can’t do this.” He felt angry all of the sudden, and his throat was tight with emotion. “You were the ones that dragged me into this. I didn’t… I only…”

Trevor’s expression turned immediately contrite. “Look,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. Lindsay did choose you for a reason, even if you don’t believe it.” Jeremy turned away from him sullenly, and Trevor looked out at the water with a wistful expression. “When she first became queen, all of her subjects placed her on a pedestal. She became something of a god: something fearful and awe-inspiring and untouchable. I think she was incredibly lonely back then. When she found you, though, you became the first person to see her as she was. That meant a lot to her.”

“And now I’m going to end up killing her and everything she loves. Great.” Jeremy huffed, but his cheeks were warm.

“No.” Trevor shook his head, a small smile making its way on his lips. “You won’t fail. Call it an expert’s intuition.”

Jeremy just snorted. “An expert, huh? I guess we’ll just see what happens, won’t we?” Somehow, though, he did feel a little better.

“Just promise me you’ll remember the weight of all this,” Trevor said, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small vial on a leather cord and pressed it into Jeremy’s hands. It was full of a thick, black liquid. Poison.

Jeremy pulled on the necklace. The vial fell exactly over his heart, feeling impossibly cold. “I will,” he promised.

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy’s heart was pounding loudly as they pulled into the docks the next morning.

They had arrived at Achievement City.

All of his life he had longed to see this place, the shining beacon of progress to the world, the most extravagant success of King Geoff. Glittering in the risen sun, it was everything he had ever dreamed it to be.

Jeremy bounced up and down on his heels, barely able to contain himself as the sailors lined up the gangplank and tied the ship down. Trevor gave him a knowing look as Jeremy bit his lip anxiously. Finally, the gangplank locked into place and Jeremy shot off, feet pounding against the shaking wood as he made his way to the dock. Ignoring Mica’s protests behind him, he jogged his down the docks, his world swaying gently as he tried to lose his sea legs.

“Don’t run ahead!” Mica yelled, still juggling various bags of luggage on the ship. “Do you have your paperwork?”

He patted his pocket confirming that he did still have his scroll, and didn’t accidentally throw it into the ocean, or anything like that. Satisfied, he dodged various sailor hefting crates and barrels and approached a bored looking man sitting at a desk, flanked by guards.

As Jeremy gave the guards a nervous smile, the man looked up from his paperwork and held out his hand. Jeremy pulled out his scroll and handed it over, his hands shaking a bit. “Is this a trip of business or pleasure?” the man droned in a monotone voice as he unraveled the scroll.

“Huh? Oh, business,” Jeremy stuttered, suddenly wishing he had waited for the others. The man took out a monocle and affixed it to his eye, leaning over to scrutinize Jeremy’s paperwork.

“Hmm. Strange,” the man mumbled as he scanned it. Jeremy’s heart dropped. Could he tell the document was forged? Did Mica and Trevor fuck up? Was his journey really about to end before he even stepped foot into the city? But as he was agonizing over that, the man lifted his head and gave a small laugh. “Heading to the castle, are you?” he said, and Jeremy let out a sigh of relief. “I let in many others like you, hoping to impress the kings. All of them came running back to me, some of them in pieces.” He gave Jeremy a yellowed smile. “Welcome to Achievement City, boy.” He stamped Jeremy’s papers and handed them back to him, giving the guards a nod.

Jeremy repressed his growing horror. “Thank you?” he said, giving an awkward smile back as he walked past the guards. The man’s grin only grew.

Then, with a deep gulp of air to steady himself, Jeremy took his first step into Achievement City.

It was a glorious place. The city sat upon a rather large cliff, inclining up from the sea. Its massive, white walls rose up around on all sides, boasting absolute protection from any mobs that might dare to wander close. Buildings of painted stone cluttered together in neat rows in a radial pattern surrounding the main castle, laid up on clean, cobblestone roads. Crowds of people bustled about, laughing and drinking and selling and talking, all without a care in the world. Streamers of bright colors were strewn across from rooftops, and beautifully crafted lanterns hung from windowsills. Music drifted dreamily from a small band playing in courtyard. It was like an explosion of color and noise and warmth, and Jeremy drank it all in eagerly.

“It’s something else, isn’t it?” Trevor said softly, walking up next to him. Mica and Matt were behind him. “I’ll never forget the first time I came here.” Jeremy just nodded dumbly in agreement, too absorbed in the scenery around him to form words.

“I’ll never forget my first time here either. I got robbed of everything I owned,” Mica said crossly, huffing as she dragged her piles of luggage behind her.

“Robbed? Oh, gods,” Matt said, wiping at his brow.

“Yes. In fact, that was the reason I turned to…well…my particular line of work,” Mica sighed. She dusted off her pants and pulled out her timepiece, eyeing it thoughtfully. “Well, we made it a little bit earlier than expected, so you guys can go explore a while if you want. Just make sure you meet me in the noble’s quarter by six.” She handed Jeremy and Matt each a map, and pointed at the middle of it. “It’s here. We’re in the market district right now. The residence district is further in, followed by the temple district. The noble’s district is the area right around the castle; you’ll need to show your papers to get in.” She nodded in the direction of Geoff’s castle, which loomed over the city like a massive tombstone, in sharp contrast to the colorful rest of the city. “Make sure you avoid the slums, over by the aqueducts. And try to keep your wits about you, yes?”

“Sounds good by me.” Trevor grinned. “If you need me, I have a couple old friends I need to visit.” He gave a short wave before disappearing into the crowd.

“I guess I’ll go check out the bakery, then,” Matt said, already practically drooling as he stumbled in a zombie-like fashion towards the sweet-smelling pastry display.

Mica eyed the local cosmetics shop excitedly. “Stay safe, Jeremy,” she said as called over a man with a cart to haul their baggage.

Jeremy gave her a distracted nod and turned to wander off into the marketplace.  All of the stalls framing the street were bursting with tempting goods. One stand offered an array of colorful and strange looking fruits and vegetables Jeremy had never seen before. Another boasted baskets of strongly reeking fish and squid. In a window display, mannequins wore extravagant and flamboyant outfits; a fashion that only city-folk seemed to be fond of.

A man clothed in the outfit of a fool danced by Jeremy, bells jingling at his ankles. He threw up a couple brightly colored balls in the air and began to juggle, hands almost blurring with the speed of his movement. A woman in a red dress watching him held out her foot and tripped him, sending the fool sprawling on the ground, his balls rolling far away. The fool grimaced from the ground, holding his scraped knee. The crowd around him began to erupt in snickers and jeers as they watched him.

“The Fool’s King arrives in two days,” the juggler announced to the crowd of laughing people. “When he does, it is my brethren that shall be the ones laughing.” He picked up his juggling balls and elbowed his way back through the crowd, expression dark. The people watching only roared louder with laughter, sending more jibes and insults the fool’s way. _Was King Gavin the king of fools, or just a fool himself?_ Jeremy wondered, a bit disturbed by the entire display.

He was about to be tempted in by a stately-looking weapons shop and its fancy carved swords when he noticed a dim, purple light glowing down an alleyway in a quieter part of the marketplace. Curiosity piqued, he made his way down the darkened alley. The clatter and noise from the outside faded away as he walked down it, and a chill seemed to seep its way in from the damp alley walls. The strange purple light belonged to a large, glowing lantern affixed to the top of a small, ramshackle building wedged in the alley wall. A small sign that read POULTICES AND POTIONS hung over the collapsing doorway. Jeremy’s eyes widened. He had always had an interest in alchemy, but ingredients and the potion stations needed to make the potions were more than rare, especially in the small towns Jeremy had lived in. The only access to potions Jeremy ever had were the occasional brews that Larry was able to smuggle in for him. He had always treasured those gifts more than anything.

He opened the door cautiously. “Hello?” he called out to the descending staircase.

“Come in!” A voice yelled.

Jeremy shrugged and made his way down the staircase, shutting the door behind him. The air seemed to get more and more damp and moldy the further he walked. At the bottom of the stairs, he arrived in a small, cluttered room. Shelves and baskets lined the walls, filled to the brim with ingredients: from lumpy mushrooms to rustic spices to eerily human-looking eyeballs. Plants hung in clusters from the ceiling, giving the room an earthy smell. An old man sat behind the counter, watching Jeremy with glittering eyes. “I don’t get visitors very often,” he said, voice cracked with age. “Are you looking for anything in particular? I just got in a fresh batch of nether wart.”

The old man pushed forward a tray filled with a red, bulbous looking mushroom. Jeremy blinked. “Nether wart? As in from the nether? That’s incredible,” he breathed. There was only one known entrance to the nether, buried deep in the mountains and heavily guarded. Not many people were even allowed in, as one needed special clearance from a king.

“They are quite hard to procure, but are very much worth it,” the man said proudly. As Jeremy gawked at the nether wart, the man cocked his head in interest. “Are you a fan of alchemy?”

“Yes,” Jeremy burst out eagerly. There were rows of potion bottles sitting behind the man, all bubbling with viscous, glittering liquids. A cauldron, full of something purple and effervescent, simmered next to him. “I was never in the position to pursue it, unfortunately.” He sighed.

The man gave Jeremy an analyzing look. “That is sad, indeed. Most people are afraid of the art of alchemy, so there are very few people that actively practice it. It is always a kind day when I find a fellow alchemist. Do you intend to pursue it now?”

Jeremy gave an awkward laugh. “No, sorry. I’m going to the castle to be a part of the guard, hopefully.”

“The castle?” The man exclaimed, leaning forward, his eyes rounding out in excitement. He reached out a hand as if to grab at Jeremy’s shirt, then pulled it back, seeming to think better. He schooled his expression into something more neutral and tapped his chin a couple times, deep in thought. The man turned and reached for something behind him. “A lot of my business comes from there,” he said, back turned.

Alarm bells went off in Jeremy’s head. “Well, I’ll be working with King Michael. I doubt he makes use of alchemy too much,” he said, taking a careful step back.

The old man turned around sharply to watch him, his smile almost seeming too big for his face. “The Feral King, hmm?”  His eyes seemed to glitter more. “Well, before you leave, I have something for you- if you would like it. A free sample of something you could produce if you were to ever change your mind.” He placed a small vial on the counter. It was filled with a vibrant blue liquid.

Jeremy immediately perked up. “Free sample?” he said, stopping in his tracks.

“Yes. It is a potion of- oh, alright then.” Before the man could finish his sentence, Jeremy gulped down the vial in one quick swig.

“Never give someone offering free stuff the chance to change their minds,” Jeremy said, holding up a finger and grinning smartly. Especially when it was something as valuable and rare as a potion. Jeremy had only drunk a few in his life, but the feeling was something extraordinary. He waited for the bubbling feeling of warmth and strength to flow through his veins. It never came. Instead, his vision began to warp and melt, and his head began to pound violently.

This wasn’t right.

“Wha- what’s happenin’ to me?” Jeremy slurred, his tongue feeling too heavy for his mouth. His world tilted violently and he vaulted forward, just barely catching the edge of the counter to steady himself.

The old man’s smile and warmth dropped from his face, and he cocked his head, studying Jeremy in an analytical, cold fashion. Jeremy wasn’t sure if it was the potion messing with his head, but he looked suddenly younger, as if the wrinkles had smoothed out on his face.

“Faster than I guessed. I’m getting better, then.” The man said, pulling out a journal to jot some notes. Jeremy felt as if his body was filled with cotton, and his head began to throb even more. Black dots appeared in the corner of his vision.

“Sorry about this,” the man said, tilting his head apologetically. “I wish you luck in the castle. Remember that the true King is-” The man’s mouth continued to move, but Jeremy couldn’t hear anymore. He was almost relieved as he slipped into darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy felt as if he had been run over by hoard of donkeys.

He groaned as he opened his eyes, trying to adjust his vision to the sharp sunlight. He was laying on the ground, and it was hard and hot underneath his back. It smelled awful, and there was trash and rubble littered all around him in piles. A bridge stretched up over him, casting the road next to him in shadow. Next to him was a waterway, slanted and softly flowing. The aqueduct.

What the hell had happened? How did he get here?

He searched his memories, frantically trying to put the pieces together. He had arrived in Achievement city, promised Mica to meet up with her later, and then…nothing. Blackness filled the rest of his memories. From his lack of memories and pounding headache, he must have gotten blackout drunk. Which was an extremely stupid thing to do, even from his standards. _What time was it, anyway?_ Judging by the angle of the sunlight, it was getting close to the intended meet up time. If _it even was the same day_ , he thought with a grimace.

His bag lay next to him, and he sifted through it, checking to see if everything was in place. Thankfully everything seemed to be in order, and even his journal and bag of gold was untouched. He sighed in relief, and stood up carefully, dusting dirt off himself. As he cleaned himself off, he noticed something black on his skin through the thin material of his shirt. Jeremy pushed his sleeve off and let out a curse. Tattooed around his bicep was a thick black band with curling vines, the skin still red and itchy. He got a damn tattoo as well?

He scooped up some of the water and scrubbed it on the tattoo in a last ditch effort, but it was to no avail. Jeremy let out a deep steadying breath and closed his eyes, counting to ten. A tattoo. He was a fucking idiot.

Picking up the scattered pieces of his own damned intelligence, Jeremy turned and started to make his way down the pathway. However, as he began to turn the corner, a body collided with him at full force, sending the both of them sprawling painfully across the ground. Small marbles went shooting everywhere. Jeremy groaned loudly and picked himself up, rubbing at his sore head.

“Oh man, I am so sorry,” Jeremy sputtered, scrambling to gather up some of the marbles before they rolled into the water. They were ice cold, almost freezing his fingers.

The man was cloaked and hooded in almost completely black clothing, except for a checkered green scarf that covered his mouth. Only his eyes were exposed, and they darted back and forth anxiously. He gathered some of the marbles into a bag he was holding, looking frantic. “Oh, bollocks,” he muttered to himself. His voice was strangely accented and high pitched with panic. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

As Jeremy opened his mouth to apologize again, he heard the loud clatter of footsteps. From across the waterway, three guards clad in shiny silver armor ran into view, brandishing glittering swords. “Hey, there’s the thief! Stop him!”

The man was a thief. Jeremy cursed his shit luck.

At the sound of the shouts the thief shot up in terror. He looked reluctantly at the marbles that Jeremy had pulled into his arms and then at the rapidly approaching guards, seeming to make a split-second decision. Then, he turned and ran, his feet pattering almost silently against the stone walkway.

The guards picked up their pace, making their way around the aqueduct. “He has an accomplice!” one shouted.

_Accomplice?_

Jeremy knew the smartest option would probably be to stay and explain his situation, despite the chance of misunderstanding. He _knew_ this, but his years of own thieving and the murderous gleam in the guard’s eyes had him gathering up the remaining marbles and sprinting in the other direction before he could regret it.

Jeremy ran as fast as he was able, even as his vision was swaying painfully. Adrenaline seemed to flood his body, numbing the pain and lending strength to his legs. In barely any time, he caught up to the fleeing thief. The thief looked back at him in shock, then in confusion.

“You dropped these,” Jeremy said dumbly, holding up the marbles.

The thief seemed to grow even more confused. Then, he let out short, surprised laugh. “Well, you better keep up so you can give them back, then,” he said. His eyes crinkled warmly, the sun turning them a light green. For a minute, time seemed to slow down, and Jeremy felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. Then, the thief turned his head to focus on running and the strange moment passed.

“Stop right there!” a guard barked.  Jeremy felt the whizz of an arrow as it shot by his ear. The thief grabbed his arm and yanked him down an alleyway just as several more arrows buzzed by. The alley had barely enough room to fit Jeremy and he turned to his side slightly as he struggled to keep up. The thief pulled him down a dripping tunnel, and they ducked and slid under various shanties, disturbing their occupants. The sound of collapsing wood and shouts of pain came behind them, and Jeremy turned to watch as the guards collided into the shanties, getting tangled with cloth and people and planks of wood. Jeremy let out a whoop of triumph, and the thief joined him happily.

They turned a few more corners before the thief slowed and dropped to his knees, wresting off a grate from the floor. The rusted grate came up easily, and he gave Jeremy a nod before dropping down into the hole. Jeremy hesitated for a bit, but he could hear various yelling in the distance as the guards picked themselves up. He swallowed heavily and dropped down, replacing the grate.

There was a small splash as his shoes hit water, and Jeremy blinked owlishly into the darkness. He saw the faint outline of the other man as he pulled out a torch and lit it. The flames lit up the area around them, showing stagnant, rancid water and the arching wall of the sewers. Jeremy wrinkled his nose.

The thief turned to Jeremy and opened his mouth as if to say something, but his expression contorted into absolute disgust. Suddenly, he doubled over and began to wretch loudly.

“Woah, are you okay?” Jeremy hovered over the other man and patted his back, unsure.

The thief continued to gag. “I…thought it’d be fine, but… it smells like absolute shit,” he got out between his hacking coughs.

 “Probably because it is shit,” Jeremy said, squinting suspiciously at various lumps in the water.

“Why would you say that?” the thief whined. He let out a few more coughs before he straightened up, pulling his scarf even higher up his face. He wiped at his eyes. Jeremy resisted the urge to laugh. What a strangely pathetic person.

“We can exit down this way. We should be safe after that,” the other man said, voice watery as he adjusted his hood.

Jeremy nodded in agreement, and followed nervously after him. Their footsteps echoed wetly in the tunnel. A drop of water hit Jeremy on the nose and he wiped it away crossly. He could hear the clatter of footsteps as the guards ran over the grate, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“So, why did you steal these anyway? What are they?” Jeremy asked, rolling the marbles around in his hands. In the warm fire light, they almost looked like tiny, glittering eyes staring up at him.

“I didn’t steal them,” the thief said, turning to give Jeremy an indignant look. “I merely relieved them from people who didn’t understand their importance.”

“The importance of marbles?”

“They aren’t marbles! If you don’t know what they are, then you don’t deserve to know either.” The other man waved the torch around to emphasize his words.

“You do realize that I’m holding them, right?” Jeremy said importantly, crossing his arms.

Suddenly, Jeremy was slammed roughly against the damp wall of the sewer, knocking the breath out of him. He felt something cold and sharp press up against his throat. The thief stared down at him, his eyes cold. “I don’t think you understand who is in control here.”

Jeremy gulped, the knife moving up and down with his throat. He raised his arm and opened his fist, releasing the marbles into the other man’s grasp. Was this really the same person who had nearly been entirely incapacitated by a smell just a short minute ago?

The thief removed his knife from Jeremy’s throat and stepped back, his eyes slanting up into a smile. “Glad we’re in agreement then,” he said cheerfully.

He strode forward, and Jeremy hesitated before following behind him, a bit uncertainly. He didn't really want to follow someone that unpredictable, but Jeremy would rather take his chances with a thief, instead of trying to journey alone in the impossibly dark, slime- infested sewers. He wished he had brought his spear with him.

“Sorry to get violent,” the thief admitted, a bit sheepishly. “They’re a bit important.”

“I rather hope they’re important,” Jeremy muttered. “I’d hate to get my throat slit over a couple of dinky marbles.”

The thief slowed until he was walking next to Jeremy. Sweat beaded at his brow. “You’re a thief too, aren’t you?” he said. “Any normal person would have stayed to explain to the guards, but you ran after me and helped me out.”

“Maybe I’m just an idiot,” Jeremy said dryly. The other man snickered in response. “No. I’m not a thief. Anymore, at least. I’m going to be a guard for King Michael, actually. So, I’m a very upstanding person, thank you very much.”

“Michael?” the thief exclaimed suddenly, stopping in his tracks. “You’re going to work for bloody Michael?” At Jeremy’s shocked expression, he cleared his throat and began to walk forward again. “King Michael, I mean,” he corrected, fidgeting with his bag.

The other man was being blatantly suspicious, but thieves were just suspicious people in general, Jeremy supposed.

“Hopefully, I am. I have to test for it, first.”

The thief barked out a laugh. “That’s hilarious. Michael’s going to chew you up and spit you out, poor thing.” His brows threaded together. “King Michael, I mean.”

Jeremy scratched at his head. “Well, maybe so. But I have no other choice. It’s probably better than working for someone like King Gavin, or gods forbid, the Mad King.” He shuddered a bit at the thought. “I will succeed, in pieces or not.”

The thief jumped a little, then turned to regard Jeremy thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting way of thinking.” But then his eyes softened, a fond, faraway look in them. “But I think Michael will love that. King Michael, I mean. Also, not that I’d know what he likes or anything like that." He pulled at his scarf, and shook his head, sweating even more.

Jeremy snorted. “Of course not.”

The other man cleared his throat again, louder this time. “Well, looks like we made our way through,” he said, motioning to another grate, light filtering through.

Jeremy cheered happily and pulled sharply at the grate until it pushed up. The thief pulled himself up and let down his hand to help Jeremy as well. He squinted in the sudden brightness, waiting for his vision to adjust. They were in some sort of abandoned courtyard, sullied with trash and abandoned waste.

The other man stretched, and turned to Jeremy, something infectious glinting in his eyes. “What’s your name anyway?” he asked.

“I’m Jeremy,” he said, shocked enough to answer without thinking. It was probably not a good thing for a burglar to know your name. Especially when that burglar had previously pointed a knife at your throat. He shrugged. He didn’t suppose that someone like him had much room to judge on these kinds of things, anyway.

“And what’s your name?” Jeremy asked, curiosity peaking its head.

Something genuinely mischievous shined in the thief’s eyes. “You already know my name,” he said wickedly, before he turned and vanished into the labyrinth of streets.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who that could be ;)  
> If you're curious, my vision of Achievement City is basically a mashup of Imperial City from Oblivion and Gran Soren from Dragon's Dogma. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the feedback and kudos! It really meant a lot to me. I thought that since the chapter was just set up and was kinda strange no one would enjoy it, so it was really surprising to me. 
> 
> This chapter was a bit of a mess, but it's setting up for the next chapter, which is honestly the chapter I was most excited to write back when I was first planning out this story. I can't wait haha!  
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading!!!


	3. Willing Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a bit late, life really got in the way this past week. But, to make up for it, this chapter is a bit longer. Hopefully after this the chapters will be a lot shorter lol.  
> Just a small warning: there is a bit of violence in the last part of this chapter. It's nothing too bad, like not enough to change the rating (at least I don't think so, let me know if it is???), but just so you know that it's there in case you want to skip it.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

“You’re late.”

Jeremy gave a sheepish grin, his chest heaving. He wiped his brow of sweat. He had run all the way to the noble’s quarter once he found out what time it was. Despite his best efforts, he had still ended up here way after the intended meeting time.

“What took you so long anyway?” Matt asked, looking bored and tired.

 _Well, I somehow got blackout drunk in the daytime, passed out in some random alleyway after I got a tattoo, and accidentally helped out with a robbery,_ Jeremy thought. “Got distracted by food,” he said instead.

Mica gave him a disapproving look. “I thought you might have ended up dead in a ditch. Well, no matter. Let’s continue on.”

The four of them approached the gate to the noble’s quarter and presented their paperwork to the main guard. The guard regarded them distastefully. “Headed to the castle?” he said, sniffing importantly. “Just so you know, we require all new visitors to make use of our bathhouse before they are allowed in. Once you are confirmed clean, you can make your way in.”

Jeremy gawked at him. “You want us to take a bath before you let us in?” he asked, dumbfounded.

The guard lifted his chin and stared down at Jeremy with disgust. “Yes. You especially.”

Jeremy’s eyebrow twitched and he took a purposeful step forward. Trevor put a hand on his shoulder. His smile was light, but his grip was like iron. “It’s to help stop the spread of disease,” Trevor explained. That didn’t make him feel much better. Nothing like implying you’re diseased to help heal your self-confidence. Even if he had been in a sewer only a few minutes prior.

The four of them followed the guard into the noble’s quarter and into a rather large, extravagantly carved stone building. Inside, it was packed. People in various states of undress were flooding in and out of it, looking content and laughing together. A massive pool of water sat in the center of the room, surrounded by pillars and softly flowing waterfalls. Statues of beautiful women sat upon the pillars, watching benevolently down at the crowd below. The building had an open roof, so that the setting sun glinted upon the pool, coloring it a soft orange in the dying light.

“Take your time,” the escorting guard said, giving a small yawn. “And please burn your clothes when you’re done.”

“Burn our clothes?” Matt said indignantly, but the guard was already leaving.

“What an ass,” Mica scoffed, and Jeremy nodded in agreement. “Let’s do this quickly, then.”

At the sake of some semblance of privacy, the four of them split up to the four corners of the pool. Jeremy found himself an empty spot and eyed the water nervously. It was bubbling softly.

He slipped in and bathed himself as quickly as he was able, trying his best not to make eye contact with anyone, his cheeks a permanent red. He was used to living in places that were a bit more conservative, and it was surprising how comfortable everyone was in these sorts of conditions. The water was warm and silky, and the slab of soap provided to him smelled vaguely flowery. He scrubbed extra roughly at his new tattoo again, as if it would have changed its mind, but it once again it stayed stubbornly in place, and he let out a defeated sigh. After it was done, he dressed himself in an extra outfit he had stored in his bag, and made his back to the entrance to meet up with the others.

“I suppose it’ll have to do,” the guard sighed, flicking a speck of dirt off the cuff of his sleeve. “Head on into the castle before I change my mind, perhaps.”

Matt stuck his tongue out as the guard turned on his heel and left. “I think we all smell beautiful,” Trevor huffed. “Let’s go, then.”

As they walked through the noble’s quarter, Jeremy couldn’t help but feel as if they had stepped into a different world. Gone was the clamor and clutter of the merchant’s district, instead replaced with calm, distant music, and pleasant flowery scents. The few manors were large and luxurious, filled with green gardens and sparkling fountains. Massive oak trees cast cool shadows onto the cobblestone streets, shielding them from the oppressive summer sun. Beautiful people in elegant clothing strolled by with bell-like laughter and painted faces. Jeremy had never felt more out of place in his life, like he was some dirty mole that had accidentally burrowed its way into a diamond palace, even after his bath.

They made their way down the main pathway, lanterns starting to flick on as the sunlight began to retreat. The last gate stood in their way, larger and more fortified than any other one they had been through so far. Jeremy felt himself begin to tremble as they presented their paperwork one final time, and made their way through their way through the arching, menacing gateway.

If the noble’s quarter was another world, then the castle’s courtyard was another universe. Hundreds of people bustled around like ants, hauling slabs of stone and stacks of wood- hammering and lifting as they constructed the skeletons of buildings that the other kings would soon reside in. Looming above it all was Geoff’s castle: a massive stone structure that blotted out the setting sun. The courtyard was large, almost as big as their entire hometown. Glittering statues of gold hefted baskets of trickling water. Trees bursting with fruits like gems clustered on the edge of the clearing. Guards fitted with heavy armor laughed together in groups.

As Jeremy gaped at it all, Trevor turned to look at him sadly. “This is where we part for now. Michael’s army is holding out in the old barracks just past on that path. Good luck, Jeremy.”

Mica patted his shoulder. “Don’t forget to keep in touch with us if anything comes up.” She patted the cage that contained Pudgers.

“Try not to fuck up,” Matt suggested.

Jeremy gave a stiff nod. “Same to you guys.”

After assurances that they would meet again soon, they all parted ways- Matt towards the thick of the construction, Mica and Trevor towards the main castle area. Since King Gavin and the Mad King weren’t due to arrive until later in the week, they’d have a couple days off, the lucky bastards.

He made his way down the path that Trevor had pointed out, dodging various workers hauling vats of molten gold. The path led behind all of the construction and into the small fruit tree forest. The barracks in question was large and a bit rundown, squatting among the trees.

Jeremy walked up to the door and raised his hand. He took a deep breath, hesitated, then took another.

This was it.

He knocked on the door, the torches casting his hand in a dull, orange light. Crickets began to sing, their eerie tune filling the warm air. His own heartbeat throbbed in his head, causing his vision to tremble. He waited for what felt like an eternity, bugs buzzing around his head, but silence was his only answer.

Jeremy sighed in frustration and knocked again, louder this time. Once again, the muted noises of the forest were his only answer.

Steeling himself, he knocked a third time, putting all of his strength behind his fist. The door shook. Still, only silence. Then, as Jeremy prepared himself to throw his entire body against the door, the door swung open, almost knocking him backward. Immediately, the quiet night air was filled with the loud clatter of noise from inside the barracks- laughter and yelling and the smashing of wood.

A tall man filled the doorway, a blinding smile on his face, illuminated by the warm light behind him. “Oh! You must be Jeremy, yes? We’ve been waiting for you!” he exclaimed, eyes crinkling with happiness.

Jeremy resisted the urge to take a step back. This man looked like the exact opposite of what he expected from King Michael's warriors. It was a bit disconcerting. “Uh, yes? I am Jeremy.” He said nervously.

“Ah, that’s fantastic!” The man stepped forward and captured Jeremy’s hand and shook it vigorously. Jeremy’s eyes narrowed. “My name is Miles, and it is very nice to meet you.”

Jeremy pulled back his hand as subtly as he was able. “Nice to meet you as well,” he said. “Are you…?”

Before he could finish his sentence, Miles let out a boisterous laugh, drowning out his words. “The captain? Oh no, no, it’s nothing like that.” He waved his hand around in an almost embarrassed fashion. “I’m a supervisor of sorts, from under King Geoff. I watch over this bunch and make sure they don’t murder everyone and eat their corpses or anything like that.” He laughed again. Jeremy grimaced. “Well, don’t be shy, come on in! I’ll show you around.”

As Jeremy opened his mouth to object, Miles grabbed his arm and yanked him inside. Jeremy stumbled a few steps before he could right himself. He was immediately hit with the putrid scent of sweat and alcohol. The barracks was an absolute mess, as if a dirty tavern had rolled down a hill and into a massive pile of garbage. Shattered glass, splintered wood and piles of trash were scattered across the floor, creating a minefield of junk. The room was also inhabited by the most muscular people Jeremy had ever seen: every single person was rippling with physique, glistening and bulging with barely contained strength.

Jeremy took an unsure step to the side, attempting to wrest himself from Miles’ grip, to no avail. Across from him, a couple tables were shoved together in a corner and a few people danced upon it, their feet knocking over any tankards and plates stacked upon it. A lute player stood next to them, sawing away on their instrument and filling the room with violent, discordant music. With one expert kick, a glass tankard came hurtling towards him, smashing into pieces just inches away from his face. Jeremy gulped.

“Isn’t this fun?” Miles yelled jovially over the noise. A woman with arms as big as Jeremy’s torso picked up the lute player and flung them against the wall, shattering their instrument and sending them sprawling. The musician picked themselves up and hurled themselves at the woman, socking her in the jaw. The warriors roared in laughter.

“Very fun,” Jeremy said.

Miles pulled up a stool and stepped up on it, clapping his hands together. “Attention everyone!” he announced. A plate whistled by his head and he ducked to avoid it, still grinning. “I have someone to introduce to you!” The soldiers didn’t even turn to acknowledge his existence. His smile turned sharp. “I SAID ATTENTION EVERYONE.” he bellowed. His voice pierced through all of the noise, turning the room silent with shock. Jeremy rubbed at his ears. “That’s much better. Now I’d like everyone to meet Jeremy. He’s going to take on the Warrior’s Trial tomorrow.”

Suddenly all eyes were turned to him, gazes harsh and unforgiving. Jeremy felt like a chunk of meat among a pack of starving carnivores. “Hello there,” he said, pressing his back against the wall. “You all look very…sturdy.”

A man with a heavily scarred face sneered at him. “Are you insulting us, Miles? A person like this is eligible to be one of us? I pray you are jesting.”

“No, this is no joke. He came with all the correct recommendations. Perhaps you should give him a chance, first.” Miles ruffled Jeremy’s hair.

The crowd around them began to mutter, exchanging doubtful glances. A woman with red war paint let out a chuckle. “Well, it’s no matter, anyway. He’ll be running away tomorrow, just like all of the others before him.” The rest of the warriors laughed in agreement, and started to return to their previous activities.

Miles’ brow twitched, and he turned to Jeremy apologetically. “Don’t let them get to you. Just focus on trying your best, okay?”

Jeremy looked around the room. “Are you the one giving me the trial?”

“Oh no, definitely not. I’d probably pass everyone, honestly. Everyone does such a good job here! The captain is over there, Adam. He’ll be the one testing you.”

He turned to look at a tall man with an impressive beard and a piece of bone jewelry piercing his nose. The man in question gave a friendly wave. Jeremy felt ill.

“Are you hungry?” Miles questioned. He scooped up a bit of raw meat of the floor and offered it to Jeremy.

“As delicious as that looks, I think I’m okay.”

“If you insist,” Miles shrugged, dropping it.

He pulled up two chairs to the side of the room and Jeremy collapsed in one of them gratefully. “Is King Michael around?” Jeremy questioned, rubbing at his eyes.

“Usually he would be, but recently he’s been tied up with the politics of the alliance. He’s in the castle with King Geoff currently, so he probably won’t show up any time soon.”

Jeremy let out a small sigh of relief. At least he didn’t have to worry about that sort of thing for a little bit. “And this trial, do you know what it exactly is?”

Miles rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I don’t know, sorry. I haven’t been here that long. I do know that with all the potential prospects that came through, not a singular person has passed so far. People that were born here and people that were born in the Feral King’s domain are quite different, I suppose.”

Jeremy watched as a man slammed another through a table, smashing it in two as everyone else cheered. “Maybe just a little bit,” he admitted quietly.

 

* * *

 

 

_Jeremy stood upon a sea of lava, confused and sweating. Rivers of melting rock flowed up from the never-ending ceiling. Across from him stood a man, face blurred with heat._

_“Are you willing?” the man asked, threading his hands together. “How much does your life mean to you? How much does theirs?”_

_With belated horror, Jeremy realized he was sinking, the lava already sucking at his shins, slowly dragging him under. The heat was unbearable, setting fire to every part of him, sucking the oxygen from his lungs, choking him._

_“Are you willing?” He asked again, more urgently this time, but Jeremy couldn’t breathe, let alone speak._

_The man stood silently as the lava consumed him entirely._

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy’s eyes shot open, and he instantly knew why he was sweltering: he was currently surrounded and suffocated on all sides by tightly packed muscles and limbs.

Jeremy couldn’t believe that he had been able to fall asleep.

Trevor had warned him that the people of King Michael’s kingdom had no sense of privacy, but he had not realized it would’ve been this bad. Apparently, Michael’s warriors didn’t believe in the concept of beds. Instead, they all piled in a corner among a stack of furs, curling together and falling asleep like a pack of dogs. Jeremy had intended to forgo that and instead go to sleep sitting on a chair as far away from these people as possible, but someone had picked him up by the scruff of the neck and tossed him on the bedding like a sack of potatoes. So, stiff as a board and trapped under various body parts that he didn’t really want to think about, Jeremy had somehow eventually found his way to a fitful sleep.

Unsurprisingly, it had been his worst night’s rest in ages.

He carefully stood up and tip toed his way through the mass of breathing bodies, cautiously watching for any signs of waking. Thankfully, he reached the outside without disturbing anyone, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, good. You’re awake,” a deep voice said.

Sitting at the splintered, half-broken table was the man Miles had pointed out yesterday: Adam, the captain of the guard. He had dark bags under his eyes and his gaze was glassy as he spooned porridge into his mouth, some of it dribbling into his beard. “Are you ready for your trials?” he asked around a mouthful of food.

Jeremy sat next to him and took a bowl of porridge that Adam offered him. It was lumpy and burnt, but Jeremy was so hungry that he felt as if there was a hole in his stomach, and he practically inhaled the food without a second thought. Adam watched him out of the corner of his eye, something a bit understanding in his expression.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jeremy huffed as he placed the bowl down with a clatter. He felt sore, but a bit refreshed with a fuller stomach.

“Well, let’s get started before any of those idiots wake up,” Adam said, and motioned towards the door.

The two of them made their way outside. It was a cool morning, the small, crisp breeze signifying that summer was on its last legs. The rising sun washed the palace in warm reds. Clatter and noise drifted in from the distance as everyone began their day.

Adam led him away from the barracks and across the clearing to a small forested area. He surveyed the forest, tapping and grabbing at various trees, until he seemingly found one that fit his unclear standards. It was a medium sized tree- its trunk about the size of Jeremy’s leg.

Adam gave the tree a pat. “First is the test of the strength. You must cut down this tree.”

Jeremy stared at the tree, then back at Adam. A bird tweeted cheerfully in the distance, heedless of the awkward silence. Jeremy swayed back and forth on the heels of his feet. “Um…fine. Where’s the axe?”

“No axe. Cut it down with your fist.”

Jeremy looked at the tree again, nodding slowly. “Right, right. That’s completely possible.”

Adam tilted his head, as Jeremy had said something absolutely baffling. “Of course it is, especially for people in King Michael’s guard.” He turned to face a nearby tree, four times thicker than the one Jeremy was facing, and with one expert chop, felled the tree entirely. Jeremy blinked.

“Well, that looks easy, then. I’ll give it a shot, I guess?” Jeremy said, cracking his knuckles. He dropped into an offensive position and regarded the tree. The tree swayed peacefully in the wind, regarding him back. Jeremy pulled his fist back, and with all of the strength he could muster, punched the tree.

A startled bird fluttered away. Adam yawned. Jeremy’s eyes began to water.

“Shit!” Jeremy pulled away from the tree and cradled his ruined hand, dancing around in a circle and shaking it frantically. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Adam blinked at him. “I don’t really know what you were expecting there.”

“For it to work, maybe?” His hand burned with pain. He might’ve broken a knuckle. But he wasn’t done yet. With a sharp intake of breath, he lifted his left hand and swung at the tree again, harder this time. Once again, his hand exploded in pain and he howled out another curse. The tree didn’t even budge.

“As amusing as this is, maybe you should just stop.” Adam said, eyeing him pitifully.

“Not while I still have working limbs.” Jeremy grit out, shaking out his left hand. This time he raised his leg and gave the trunk of the tree a hard, compact kick. With bated breath, he watched as the tree gave a small tremble. Then, slowly, a singular leaf drifted down and landed delicately on Jeremy’s head.

Adam picked the leaf off of him and grinned at it. “You almost got it,” he said encouragingly.

“What the fuck is wrong with this tree?” Jeremy exclaimed. With a roar of frustration, he flung himself entirely at the tree, his body colliding with it with a solid thunk. When his leafy nemesis still showed no signs of defeat, he wrapped his arms around its base and began to pull, sending sharp needles of pain up his knuckles. The tree still stood its ground.

“Yeah, you show that tree who’s in charge. All of the other trees are trembling in fear,” Adam said dryly.

Jeremy changed course and latched onto a thick branch and yanked at it, sweat beading on his brow. The wood began to creak and split, and with one final pull, he wrested the branch loose. “Yes!” He held it triumphantly over his head. “I did it!”

Adam clapped politely. “Congratulations. You conquered a stick. Let’s just move on before you break the rest of you trying to fight a bush or something like that.”

Dropping the stick, Jeremy smiled in embarrassment and followed after Adam as he led them out of the woods. The captain made his way across the clearing again and to a rather peaceful looking pond. A couple of servants stood about, gossiping while they washed laundry. Noisy ducks paddled their way through the water, disturbing the various lily pads and plants. Adam looked around a bit, then bent down and wrenched a giant rock from the ground, leaving a considerable hole.

“Next is the trial of endurance,” he said, pulling out a cord of rope from his belt. “Swim your way across the pond with this on your back.” He hefted the rock.

Jeremy gulped. “Easy.”

Using the rope, Adam affixed the rock securely to his back. It poked and prodded uncomfortably against his skin. As soon as Adam let go of him, Jeremy lurched backwards, the weight of the small boulder almost sending him sprawling like an upturned turtle. Thankfully, he caught himself just in time and righted himself, making sure to keep his balance, his legs spread out sturdily.

As Adam nodded, he began to slowly waddle his way down the bank of the water, his feet dragging lines in the dirt. The servants looked up at his and began to whisper at each other, giggling. Jeremy’s cheeks flamed. He began to slowly submerge himself in the cool water, startling the ducks away. When the water began to lap under his chin, he gave a sharp push with his legs, and spread his arms out in front of him, churning water desperately in some sort of twisted attempt to swim. For a minute he floundered in the water, his arms and legs wind milling, but he quickly realized that he was making no ground, and was instead slowly sinking. He redoubled his efforts, but it was pointless. With a small puff of silt, he settled on the bottom of the pond, trapped under the weight of the rock. He pushed with his legs and scrambled at the ground with his still hurting hands, but his limbs found no purchase on the smooth floor.

Jeremy let out a thick sigh, bubbles trickling from his lips. He settled down and laid his head on his arms, staring contemplatively out into the murky water. _It’s pretty nice down here_ , he thought. The water was cool and comfortable, and if it wasn’t for the giant rock attached to his back, it would’ve been perfect. As he watched a minnow flit around his nose, a hand dove into the water and yanked him up, pulling him to his feet.

He spat out a stream of water, and grinned up at concerned looking Adam, who was easily holding Jeremy up, as one would hold a kitten. “I was almost there,” Jeremy said. He hadn’t even made a foot of progress. The servants were almost rolling with laughter.

Adam set Jeremy down and at rubbed at his eyes. As Jeremy took a step forward, he rocked backwards with the sudden upset of balance, and toppled to the ground with a definitive splash. He wiggled around helplessly like a bug. The servants were actually on the floor now, howling with mirth.

“Let’s just… let’s just move on.” Adam said tiredly.

The rest of the trials didn’t end up any better. For the trial of agility, Adam shot arrows at him as he dodged. Jeremy ended up stuck to a wall, arrows impaling his clothes and trapping him in place. For the trial of dexterity, Adam had him try to untangle a serious knot. Somehow, Jeremy ended up entangling himself instead like a piece of dangling meat. In the trial of constitution, Adam fed him various sour foods. Jeremy was quickly incapacitated, his stomach already queasy from his previous meals. It was failure after failure.

Finally, as the sun began to dip in the sky, Adam turned to look at Jeremy pityingly, as he knelt on his hands and knees, thoroughly exhausted. “I feel like you’re just making this up as you go along,” Jeremy heaved out.

Adam shrugged. “Honestly? Yeah. I don’t have the same resources here as I do back home, so I have to do a lot of improvisation.” Jeremy let out a groan at this. “Look, Jeremy, I’m really sorry, but you failed. You’ll have to go home now.”

Home? Jeremy imagined slinking back to Lindsay with his tail between his legs, having to explain how quickly he messed up everything, how all her expectations had been for nothing. No, no. He couldn’t go back.

He pursed his lips in thought, and as Adam turned to awkwardly leave, he reached and pulled out Adam’s dagger from the sheathe in his belt. When Adam twisted to look at him in shock, Jeremy pressed the dagger into his hand, and pulled Adam’s hand so that he held the dagger pointed at Jeremy’s throat. According to Trevor, this is what King Michael’s people considered an act of total humility. Still, it was really embarrassing, vulnerable position, so he hoped it would work.

“Please, give me another chance. You don’t understand how much this means to me.” Jeremy said.

Adam broke eye contact and looked around nervously. “What do you mean?”

Sweating, Jeremy remembered what Trevor had also told him before. There was only one thing that the warriors loved more than fighting: their king.

“I’ve always wanted to work under King Michael. He means the world to me… and I’d do anything for him in return.” The words tasted a bit sour in his mouth. Was it technically a lie if he was just twisting the circumstances a little bit? “Please.”

After a few minutes of high-strung silence, Adam searching Jeremy’s expression, he visibly softened. “If I’m being honest, there was another trial running along all of the other ones you’ve been doing today: the trial of loyalty.”

“The trial of loyalty?” Jeremy breathed, some sort of hope bubbling in his chest.

“Yes. Strong people are hard to find, I believe, but all of that strength means nothing if there isn’t something behind it to back it up. Loyalty, however, can go a long way. That resolve is what would save a kingdom, not brawn. So, if you truly mean that, I will allow you another chance.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened as relief flooded him. “I do mean it.”

Adam smiled, but it was a grim expression. “The task I give you will not be kind, however. Tomorrow, we are having a tournament in a place called the Thunderdome. One participant was ill, and they had to sit out. I want you to take their place. Win, and you get a spot in the guard. Lose, and you die. Will you take it?”

Jeremy froze for a minute as these words sank in the air. A tournament? Jeremy had participated in more than a few of those, but never with something as extreme as his life on the line. Were the people here really that barbaric? It was an unsettling thought. Then, realization hit him. There was no tournament; Adam was lying to him. _The bluff was the trial_ , to see if Jeremy was loyal enough to risk his life for the king. Jeremy smirked.

“Of course I’ll do it,” he said confidently.

Adam nodded, pleased. “Good. It’s tomorrow at midnight, so you can take all of the next day to prepare as you see fit. I like you, so try not to die. Good luck.” He patted Jeremy’s back and walked off.

_Wait._

Jeremy watched the larger man walk away, mouth agape. There really was a tournament, wasn’t there? He had made the wrong gamble, and now his life was on the line. He let a heavy groan and sank into the ground, his body still damp and injured from today’s tasks.

Gods, what was going to do now?

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you going to come in any time soon?”

A guard eyed Jeremy suspiciously as he stood blankly in front of the entrance to the castle.

Jeremy blinked, coming out of his reverie. “Huh? Oh, sorry. I was just…” He trailed off again, staring wide- eyed at the massive building. Geoff’s tower seemed to stretch on up into infinity, and looking up at it gave him a distinct sense of vertigo. King’s Geoff’s quarters were supposedly on the top floor of that tower. He wondered if the king was there now, looking out over his city, where Jeremy was now standing. It was a strange thought, and his heart began to pound as he considered it. Never in his most indulgent dreams would he have ever thought he could’ve been this close to the man.

“You’re blocking up the entrance,” the guard persisted, adjusting the bands on his silver armor.

“Right,” Jeremy said sheepishly, making his way into the castle.

After his frankly pathetic performance in the trials yesterday, Jeremy had decided his best course of action was to talk to one of his supposed ‘teammates’ about everything. So, after Adam had left, he called Pudgers to him and wrote a small note to Trevor to meet up the next day. While on the ship, they had decided on a sort of safe base of sorts to come together to talk if they ever needed to. Unfortunately, that base was inside the castle, leading Jeremy to where he was currently.

Upon entering, he was immediately surrounded by the warm scent of cinnamon and baked goods. The palace was bustling with people and maids and servants, all balancing trays of foods and stews and deserts. Jeremy felt his stomach rumble in longing as someone passed by with a plate overflowing with crispy turkey legs. He thought bitterly about the bloody, undercooked food that had been his diet for the last couple meals and sighed quietly. He wasn’t here to eat.

The inside of the castle was exactly the opposite of how it looked on the outside: it was very much well-lived in and full of warmth and color. Even in the presence of royalty, people were laughing and chatting together easily, comfort and ease oozing from every step they took. This was really no surprise, as King Geoff was easily the most personal and laid-back king of them all, his subjects more akin to friends than they were subservient. Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder how a king like that had managed to ally himself to someone like the Mad King, a king who ruled over his people with an iron fist of fear and blood. Jeremy stared a bit wistfully down at the brightly lit corridor that he knew led to the throne room. He shook his head, ridding himself of any lingering thoughts. He wasn’t here for tourism either; he was on a mission.

Jeremy scuttled his way towards the west wing of the castle, trying to not get too distracted by the expansive murals covering the walls. He turned left, right, then left again, and finally found himself in the corridor that Trevor had previously described to him _. ‘Behind two massive, carved doors,’_ he had said. ‘ _It’s impossible to miss.’_

He was right. The doors were large enough to fit a giant through them, and visions of dragons and warriors and skeleton knights were expertly chiseled across the surface of it. Awed, he pushed up against the door, and to his surprise, the door opened easily, revealing the castle’s library.

It was breathtaking. Thousands upon thousands of books spiraled up into the domed ceiling, slotted perfectly on towering wooden shelves. Creaking ladders swung around on their own accord, squeaking as they rolled across the floors. Dusty sunlight filtered through thick windows, casting the room in a warm, welcoming atmosphere. The room was curiously empty, however, probably due to the remote location. The only occupant was a bearded man with focused, spectacled eyes, bent over an opened tome, his hands glowing a soft blue. Black runes fluttered around him, nipping at his clothes and hair like playful butterflies. Jeremy gave a small smile and ducked carefully around him, not wanting to disturb his concentration.

He ventured further into the library, past the dusty sitting room and towards the older, more abandoned part. The shelves around here were more broken down and the books were haphazardly piled into the corners, nearly falling apart at the seams. Tucked in the furthest corner, nearly hid entirely by a broken shelf, was a rickety stair. He clambered up it, sending up clouds of dust with every step. It led into a small, stone tower, cluttered with various discarded paintings and boxes and materials. In the middle of it all sat Trevor, balanced on a tilting pile of crates, his eyes stormy and unfocused as he stared out into the distance. As Jeremy tripped over a fallen bookend, his eyes snapped up, and for a second he looked almost unrecognizable, feral and dangerous, before he took notice of Jeremy’s presence.

Trevor’s eyes softened, and his posture relaxed, slipping into his usual carefree smirk. “I was worried you’d gotten lost. Is everything alright?”

Jeremy probably should be the one asking that question, considering whatever terrifying expression that Trevor had just given him, but he supposed that Trevor wouldn’t tell him the reason behind it anyway.

“Well, to keep it short.  I failed the trials to become a warrior but I begged for another chance so now I’m participating in a possible death match in some sort of tournament in some place called the Thunderdome or some shit and the chance that I will actually die is very high and I am extremely frightened and I don’t know what to do,” he said quickly.

Trevor blinked, opened his mouth and then closed it again.

“Please help me,” Jeremy added, giving an expectant smile.

“The Thunderdome? Gods Jeremy, when I told you to be ready to give your life, I didn’t mean like this. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Well, no. I was kind of hoping you would be then one to tell me that it was a joke.”

Trevor groaned, and raised a hand to scrub at his eyes. “You can’t enter that place, Jeremy. You won’t win. We have to get you back home.”

Jeremy, who had been ready to say the exact thing to Trevor, found his eyebrows furrowing in offense as those words were turned around on him. “How do you know that I would lose? I think that I’m a very winning-type person. I think that I should give it a shot, actually.”

“There’s no ‘giving it a shot’. You either win or you die,” Trevor said, voice exasperated. Then, some sort of realization shone in his eyes. “Unless-”

“Unless?” Jeremy prodded, excited.

“If you think you have a chance in this, I’ll let you take it. I’ll come along to watch. On the very high chance that you seem like you’re going to lose, I’ll cause a distraction and pull you out of there.”

“A distraction?”

“I have my means. Don’t worry about it, just focus on winning the fight so I don’t have to even use it in the first place.”

Jeremy grinned happily, hopping over to Trevor to give him a rough hug. “Thanks, man. I’ll make you proud.”

Trevor let out a long-suffering sigh in his grasp- the kind of sigh from someone way too used to his antics. As Jeremy snorted and let him go, a sharp, triumphant horn blared in the distance, piercing through the small stone slats in the tower.

The two of them jumped. “The hell is that?” Jeremy asked, peering out one of the slits and seeing nothing.

Trevor gave a humorless smile. “It seems a king has arrived.”

The two of them scrambled down the stairs and reentered the library, making their way to one of the arching windows. The enchanter was already looking out the window as well, his face dark and irritated. He muttered something about disturbed peace and stormed off, the runes fluttering excitedly after him.

Outside, the world had exploded in chaos, people running around like ants towards the entrance of the castle. The horn blared again, more urgent this time.

“Is it King Gavin?” Jeremy asked, all but pressing his face to the glass.

“Why don’t we go see?” Trevor suggested, and Jeremy nodded eagerly.

They made their way outside, pushing their way past the crowd that was starting to gather around the main gate. Guards barked out orders, shoving people to the side in order to make a rather wide path. Jeremy and Trevor shouldered their way towards the front, Trevor more successful.

“Do you want to sit on my shoulders?” Trevor asked, smile mocking.

Jeremy pushed an elbow out of his face. “Fuck off.”

As he found himself as close to the front as he was going to get, the trumpet let out one last jaunty tune, silencing the crowd. In the stillness, Jeremy felt a slight tremble in the ground under his feet. He looked down, eyebrows furrowed. The tremble increased, unmistakable. As he prepared to turn to Trevor, the gate shuttered open with a giant metal clang.

A giant bird’s claw slammed past the gate, cracking the pavement. The crowd held their breath and even Jeremy forgot how to breathe. A second claw followed, and massive beast pushed its way through the gate, knocking a few stones loose. It let out a roar, and the crowd took a couple steps back fearfully.

It was a griffon, Jeremy realized, amazed. The king of all creatures, the untamable beast that was said to rule over the skies. But here it was now, casually strolling across the pavement, a man sitting proudly on top of it. The creature clucked its beak and the rider patted its feathery hide, calming it.

“So it’s true,” an older woman whispered beside him, clutching at her heart. “King Gavin: the tamer of beasts.”

The man in question flashed a smile in their direction, as if he could hear her. Jeremy ducked under someone’s arm in order to get a better view. The King was smartly dressed in cool greens and tanned leather, a simple golden circlet adorning his head. Gaudy gold jewelry hung from his ears, neck and wrists.  His light brown hair blew back gently in the breeze, glinting in the midday sun, while he looked impassively out into the distance. It was Jeremy’s second time seeing a king, and he felt the same rush of genuine awe he felt when he saw King Geoff for the first time- an innate sense of respect that shook him to his core. A king’s natural charisma, he supposed.

The moment immediately passed as the king attempted to descend from the griffon. As he stepped down, his foot caught in the spur and he tumbled downwards, crumpling to the ground in a very undignified heap. As the crowd stared in shock, King Gavin suddenly rocketed forward into a somersault and unfolded himself in order to perform a perfect flip, landing carefully back on his feet. He gave an extravagant bow, face flushed. The crowd gaped at him for a moment before erupting into cheers, clapping and whooping enthusiastically. Jeremy gave a small snort. He didn’t suppose he was the king of fools for nothing.

As King Gavin began to juggle, the rest of his entourage began to filter through, soldiers with hoods and light armor, servants carrying platters of treasure, fools dancing and throwing candy into the crowd, and bards playing music on small flutes and trumpets.

“This is who you’ll be working under?” Jeremy said dubiously, as a pile of colorful streamers landed on his head. In the distance, the king accidentally dropped all of juggling balls and ran after them in embarrassment as the crowd roared with laughter.

“Uh… I guess?” Trevor said, the confusion in his eyes implying that he also had no idea what he was getting into. Jeremy pouted. It figured that Trevor would have a happy old time dancing with fools while Jeremy had to get his face pummeled in by barbarians three times his size with no sense of personal space.

They watched as the strange procession made their way into the castle, leaving a trail of color behind them. A man pulled the griffon off to the side, and it trotted away obediently. The crowd began to disperse, people sucking on their treats happily, cheeks red with mirth.

Trevor turned to him, fixing Jeremy with a serious gaze. “I’ll see you tonight then, at midnight.”

Jeremy just nodded, picking at the wrappings around his injured knuckles. Trevor smiled, then wheeled around to jog after his king.

The sky began to darken, and a raindrop landed on his nose. He watched as the griffon spread its wings and took off into the sky, circling the city before it disappeared into the dark clouds. Thunder rumbled ominously and Jeremy felt himself shiver.

The Thunderdome awaited him.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you sure you’re okay with doing this?” Adam looked at Jeremy out of the corner of his eye, wringing his hands a bit nervously.

“It’ll be fine,” Jeremy said, waving away the man’s concerns. He shook out his shirt, still damp from the downpour. Thankfully, the rain had faded away, but the clouds still seethed a thick purple with occasional spikes of lightning. Jeremy idly wondered if it was the same storm they had just avoided while they were out at sea. It certainly seemed as violent. “The weather seems pretty appropriate for tonight.”

“Well, that is the point. We wait for a storm to come before we schedule a tournament. A witch can usually predict the weather pretty accurately.”

They lapsed into a silence as they walked through the noble’s quarter in the direction of the colosseum. Despite his words, Jeremy felt terribly anxious, and he could feel his hands begin to jitter and sweat. Sure, Trevor would help him out if things went wrong, but Jeremy truly didn’t want things to get to that point, especially if that meant he would get hurt. Besides, what if Trevor forgot to show up or something like that? Jeremy bit his lip.

“Do you know who my opponent is going to be?” He asked.

Adam ran a hand through his dripping hair. “I do. He’s…uh…a strange guy. I think it’d be better if you just saw him for yourself.” Jeremy frowned at this, but didn’t press the issue. “We’re here!” he announced.

Jeremy looked up. Looming over them was a jagged, black stadium, open and pointed as if it were a darkened crater upon the earth. Columns of black stone twisted like branches from all sides and convened in the middle, forming the top of the dome. People were already flooding inside.

“People are going to be watching?” Jeremy stuttered.

“Of course! Entertainment like this is necessary for a kingdom of this size. Even King Michael is attending. You won’t be the only fight, so don’t feel too much pressure,” Adam said, a friendly smile on his face.

“King-King Michael is coming?”

“Yes. I realize it might be strange meeting your hero, but don’t worry. He’s everything you’d think he’d be.”

Jeremy felt dizzy, and barely reacted as Adam began to cart him inside the dome.

The structure was large, its outside rim filled with rows of carved seats, many of them already filled. The seats surrounded a rounded, stone platform, which had several long, metal poles sticking out of it. A deep pit encircled the platform, which was only accessible by two thin bridges. Jeremy felt himself swallow hard.

“Oh, hello! Why if it isn’t our brave little newcomer again!” A voice proclaimed, slamming their hand on Jeremy’s back. It was Miles, his smile as blinding as ever. “I’ve got to say, I was a bit surprised when I heard that you’d be fighting here tonight, but I think I have to thank you. I’ve never been more excited! We should have all potential warriors participate in death matches instead of those silly trials, don’t you think?”

“No, not really,” Jeremy said dryly.

“If you say so, Sir Brave Warrior! Try to die an exciting death.” Miles waved a goodbye and climbed up a raised tower facing the platform. Adam gave Jeremy a sympathetic look.

As they waited, Jeremy scanned the crowd with increasing intensity, looking for Trevor’s obnoxious face. Then, he spotted him, leaning against a wall on the top of the dome, hooded and smiling. Trevor winked. Jeremy sagged in relief.

“Welcome everyone!” Miles, from his perch on the tower announced, using a hand cone to add volume. With that help, his voice echoed impressively throughout the dome, silencing the spectators as the last several stragglers hurried to their seats. “I hope you are ready for a night of sweat and blood!”

The audience roared their approval. “I’m not,” Jeremy muttered quietly to himself.

Suddenly, a long, morose howl pierced the air, stilling the crowd. Beside him, Adam brightened, his face stretching in a grin. “He’s here,” he said reverently.

The entire colosseum seemed to raise several degrees in temperature, a strange whip of heat snapping its way through. Jeremy turned to watch as a singular man strode into the dome, flanked on either side by two enormous wolves- one black and one white, regarding the audience with wild, amber eyes as they circled their master. It was the Feral King.

The king was cloaked in a furred hide, dragging on the ground behind him. His shirt was cropped short, exposing his lean torso. Necklaces of teeth and red beads hung low on his neck, and a crown of intertwined branches sat upon his mass of wavy hair. Red war paint decorated his face, making his face indistinguishable and demon-like in the flickering torch light. The king observed his people for a second with a proud tilt of his head, before he swept away to his pre-designated seat, a raised up throne set into the middle of the stands. He lounged in the chair, stretching out his limbs lazily with all the grace of a coiled cat. His wolves settled around him protectively, snarls rumbling low in their throats.

 _This_ was the person he was supposed to get in the good graces of? Maybe it was a good thing he was probably going to die tonight. If King Geoff and King Gavin had exuded auras of respect or charisma, then King Michael seemed to emanate an aura of danger: something that seemed to ignite a primal urge in Jeremy, one that demanded he run.

Above them, Miles cleared his throat loudly. “Well, now that our king is here, I think it’s about time we begin, yes?”

The crowd cheered their agreement as Jeremy’s heart began to pound. The Feral King let out a long yawn and propped his head up on his hand. Adam gave Jeremy a small shove and he stumbled forward, standing in front of the small bridge that led to the ring.

“Our first opponent is a man very much new to the city and perhaps fighting as well! Hailing as a fisherman from a small town, his biggest dream is to impress his most beloved hero: King Michael. Will he be able to do it, or will he remain an anonymous loser even in death? Let’s hear it for Jeremy!”

Jeremy’s cheeks flushed and he looked at the blasé Miles before turning to look accusingly at Adam. The man just gave a thumbs up and a final shove so that Jeremy tripped his way across the bridge and into the ring. All around him, the crowd erupted in boos and laughter.

“On the other side is someone that up until now was only heard of in legends; a man so powerful that even the vision of his true face is told to strike death into your bones. Let’s hear it the mythical warrior after all of our hearts: Rimulus Timulus!”

All around the ring, various warriors pulled out tall drums and began to beat at them, slowly and rhythmically like a barbaric heartbeat. Pits of wood flared up with orange flames, illuminating the ring in harsh light, causing dancing shadows. Across from Jeremy, a man started to make his way through the crowd, pushing people roughly out of his way. He was massive, at least a head taller than even the biggest people in King Michael’s guard. His arms and legs were the size of tree trunks, and his torso was almost twice the size of Jeremy’s entire body. A mask covered his face, a smile carved into it like a slash of a sword, colored neon orange and purple. He stepped across the bridge, the thin wood dipping dangerously under his weight. The opponent, Rimulus, looked down at Jeremy, almost bending in half just to peer into Jeremy’s eyes. He put out one goliath arm, opening his hand expectantly. Jeremy stared at the hand, puzzled.

“Am I truly to fight this small, fat animal, who is too stupid to shake a hand?” Rimulus announced, voice muffled by his mask. A couple of spectators snickered.

“Oh,” Jeremy squeaked, and clasped his hand with his opponent’s. Rimulus’ hand was so large it wrapped around his forearm as well. His grip was painful, and Jeremy felt as if his bones were cracking as they shook their hands up and down. Then, Rimulus released his hand, and retreated to his section of the ring. Jeremy, cradling his hands, did the same.

As Jeremy stood in his corner, it finally registered to him what his opponent said, and his mouth dropped in offense. “Did you just call me a fat animal, what the fuck?”

Rimulus tilted his head mockingly. “Oh? Does the chubby squirrel have teeth?”

Jeremy’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You know what? I am a squirrel. You know why that is? Because I fucking love nuts. I eat so many nuts, did you know that? I’ll eat every single nut, big or small…” He trailed off, realizing what an idiot he was being. Rimulus just stared in shock before giving an awkward cough. Off to his side, someone let out a snort. He turned to locate the source of it, and noticed the king was sitting where it originated from, his gaze averted but his lips quirked into a small smile. _Did he just…laugh?_

Before he could contemplate it, Miles cleared his throat again. “With those pleasantries out of the way, I think it’s time we continue, yes?” There was a shuffling of wood, and Jeremy swiveled to watch as they pulled away the bridges, leaving the two of them stranded on the platform. With a wicked grin, Miles plucked a torch off the wall and dropped it unceremoniously into the pit surrounding them, and the entire circle erupted into flames, ratcheting the temperature up around them.

Well, he guessed he knew what they meant when they said the only way out of the Thunderdome was to win. He was trapped with this massive mountain of man, surrounded by flame, with only his fists and wits to aid him. Thunder cracked in the distance, and a soft patter of rain began to fall.

He was entirely fucked.

 “Now, let the match begin!”

Jeremy barely had enough time to blink before Rimulus was barreling forward at him, low to the ground and arms outstretched. Jeremy threw himself to the side, but it was only a moment too late. Rimulus slammed into him at full force, knocking both of them painfully to the floor. Jeremy was immediately pinned to the ground, two meaty legs on either side of his body, trapping him.

“Pathetic,” Rimulus spat, and raised up his fist. Jeremy knew that if that man got a clean hit on him, it might be an instant KO. Jeremy began to writhe under his grasp desperately. It wasn’t enough to dislodge the man, but Jeremy was able to free one of his legs enough to knee up at his crotch. The impact was like he was colliding with metal, but his opponent recoiled enough that Jeremy was able to wriggle free and scramble away.

He got to his feet just in time as Rimulus swung at him, hard. Jeremy ducked, feeling like his hair was being ripped away from the roots with the force of the swipe. Then, Rimulus’ left hand shot out at him, and he couldn’t dodge this time. His fist collided with his stomach with all of the force of concrete, and Jeremy went flying, landing and skidding on the pavement, unable to catch his breath. He curled up in a ball, wheezing, as Rimulus brought his foot down on his left hand, grinding it into the floor, right over his injuries from yesterday. Jeremy let out a yelp of pain as he felt a small crack in his hand. Rimulus let out a bellowing laugh and kicked Jeremy in the chest, causing him to roll backwards. Jeremy felt his right side start to sizzle, and realized with horror he was only a couple inches away from rolling into the flaming pit. If he did that, would Trevor even be able to save him?

Rimulus was stalking towards him carefully, and Jeremy gulped before rocking himself back on his feet and scrambling around the side of the man. He needed to get away from the edge of the pit, but Rimulus was a hulking force, blocking all exits. Jeremy feinted left and dove for the right, pulling himself into a tight summersault. Rimulus reached for him, but missed, and Jeremy made a break for the center of the ring.

Gods, what was he going to do? He couldn’t even take a break from defending himself, let alone try something offensive. And what could he even do that would phase this impenetrable fortress of a man? He could try upsetting his balance, like what Mica had taught him, but to do that he would still need a hefty amount of strength to be able to topple him. His best bet would to be to try get the man to knock himself out of the ring.

Rimulus took his time approaching Jeremy, circling him slowly like he was cornered prey, savoring each step. Lighting sparked white behind him, and Jeremy felt his hair all over his body stand at attention. Then, Rimulus surged forward, once again low to the ground. Jeremy grit his teeth as he stepped out of the way. This man left no weaknesses, as if he knew what Jeremy would try to be looking for. As Jeremy turned again to face Rimulus, he swung out again and _there_ : Jeremy saw his opening. When he swung out full force like that, he put all of his balance onto his right leg, leaving his left leg loose.

As Jeremy continued to dodge, he led the both of them towards the edge of the ring, Rimulus’ eyebrow began to twitch, obviously frustrated with how things were going. He pulled his arm back even further, and veins bulged in his arms with the tension. This was it. When Rimulus swung forward, Jeremy dropped and hurtled forward, and with every bit of strength he could muster through his pain, punched at his left leg. A shudder rippled through the man, and he looked down at Jeremy, bemused and unfazed.

Just like the tree, Jeremy realized. Was this as strong as he was? Could he really do nothing? His eyes felt hot and wet.

“What are you trying to do there, stupid one? I might’ve felt a tickle,” Rimulus laughed. He kicked at Jeremy again in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. He felt something snap, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe, _he couldn’t breathe_. Everything was red hot fire, and Rimulus stomped his head, turning his vision a blurry white. Rimulus lifted Jeremy in the air like he was a child by one arm, and his eyes through the slits in the mask regarded him mockingly. Then, he tossed Jeremy aside, slamming his broken body into one of the metal poles. He landed hard on his left arm, and he felt himself cry out in pain as he heard a pop.

Somewhere distantly, he could hear people jeering and laughing. The rain was coming down faster, soaking his clothes and body, causing him to shiver. From his blurring vision, he could see Trevor, caught in someone’s arms and struggling to pull himself loose, shouting something at Jeremy while his face was contorted into an expression Jeremy had never seen on him before. _That’s strange,_ Jeremy thought. _What is Trevor so worried about?_

Rimulus stalked towards him. “The difference between us is too large,” he said. “Resign yourself to your fate.”

Fate? Was this really Jeremy’s fate then, dying like this? He supposed it was a little sad. He wondered if Lindsay would laugh at him.

Jeremy’s eyes shuttered closed, and his vision went stark white.

 

_“What are you doing here?” Lindsay tilted her head at him fondly. Her hair blew back gently in the breeze, shining like spun gold in the sunlight. Jeremy was lying spread out on his usual field of green, flowers tickling at his skin. It was eerily quiet: no birds or bugs buzzing or distant tolling of bells._

_“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I thought I went to fight for you.”_

_“Fight? What do you mean?” Lindsay asked, her thin eyebrows pulling together in confusion._

_Jeremy sat up, hanging his head guiltily. “But… I failed. I’m sorry, Lindsay. I might have died.”_

_Lindsay looked at him in amused confusion, holding up a hand to scratch at her head. “You died?”_

_“Yes. In the dumbest way possible, too.” Jeremy sighed, and tried to pluck one of the red flowers. However, the flower stayed rooted steadfast in the ground, even as he pulled with all of his strength. He sighed and let the plant go._

_Lindsay pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You’re willing to do that? Die for me? For us?”_

_There were people standing behind her now: Trevor and Matt and Mica- those assholes- but also Andy and Kdin and Larry, and all of the people he had met in his town. They all watched him expectantly._

_“Are you willing?” They asked, voices blending together, a chorus of pitch and intensity. In the distance, a familiar man with a blurred face watched impassively._

_Jeremy looked at all the people he cared for, the people that gave him a life, love, things to look forward to. A gentle smile worked its way on his face and he gave a sure nod. “Of course,” he said confidently._

_They all disappeared, and it was just Lindsay now, smiling softly. “Then you’ll be fine,” she promised, and bent down to kiss his forehead._

 

Jeremy’s arm was on fire. His eyes shot open and he looked at it, fully expecting to see flames licking up it, but there were none. But it burned, a white hot pain spiking through him that Jeremy couldn’t even find the words for. Instead, he let out incomprehensible scream. Rimulus, who had been walking towards him, froze in confusion.

Then, something inside of him snapped.

A cold rush of energy flooded through Jeremy, numbing his injuries, and stabilizing his body. His vision clipped into clarity, and his thoughts crystallized into something analytical. He stood, power thrumming through his veins, rain running down his body.

 Rimulus watched him, his eyes darting fearfully between Jeremy’s eyes and his right arm. “What the hell?” he asked. “Is this some sort of witch’s magic?” Then he shook himself, and rage burned back into his eyes. “Well, it is of no matter. No magic can save you from your death, now.”

He surged forward, and Jeremy, with cool preciseness, could see every shaky, lumbering step he took, the hands he was raising to push Jeremy into the pit. He took a few steps to the side, easily avoiding the desperate man. Rimulus caught himself just on the edge, his face twisting into a snarl before turning to face Jeremy. Jeremy smiled, and pulled back his right arm to punch Rimulus square in the torso. The man’s skin rippled with the force of the hit, and his mouth widened in silent terror as he toppled backwards into the fiery pits below.

Jeremy had won.

The crowd around him had gone entirely silent, watching him in shock. Jeremy felt his newfound strength start to trickle out of him, leaving him shivering and boneless. He collapsed on the ground, exhaustion pulling at his limbs. He noticed strange black veins were retreating on his right arm, back to around his bicep and reforming the banded tattoo, but he was too tired to think much of it.

“Well… I guess Jeremy is the winner? What an exciting twist of events!” Miles announced above him.

The crowd let out a sudden, collective gasp. Jeremy rolled his head to look at Trevor, who was currently caught in a headlock by a guard. As he watched, Trevor’s eyes rounded out horror and he wrenched a hand loose to point behind Jeremy. Jeremy turned.

Suddenly, the sky seemed to split apart as an arc of lightning came shooting down, hitting one of the metal poles with a burst of blinding energy. For a minute, Jeremy could see nothing as he was blasted backwards, the eruption of electricity blowing back his hair and filling his senses with the sharp scent of ozone. Then, the white slowly bled from his vision, revealing a dark, hulking figure on the edge of the arena.

It was Rimulus, currently pulling his way back onto the platform. His entire body was wreathed in flames, cracking his skin and turning it a violent red. His mask was gone, revealing an ugly, scarred face, melting in the heat. “You can’t…defeat me,” he heaved out, voice dry and breaking. “I won’t let…you win.”

Jeremy could only watch helplessly as Rimulus lifted him off the ground and began to squeeze at his throat, restricting his breathing. Jeremy scrabbled at the other man’s hands, trying to release his grip, but it was no use. Jeremy had no energy left to save himself, and the lack of air was making him dizzy, his vision starting to get fuzzy around the edges.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Jeremy saw someone stand. There was a flourishing wave of a cloak, and suddenly the man was all but flying, easily jumping across the large pit, the flames ducking out of his way like they were afraid.

The Feral King.

Rage burned in his eyes, lighting them an unnatural glowing red. He pulled out a shining sword, and with one easy hand movement, Rimulus stopped moving entirely, his head rolling off his shoulders and falling with a sickening squelch to the floor. The king kicked at it, boredom radiating off of him in waves. Rimulus’ grip loosened, releasing Jeremy as he took a gasp of air.

_The king had saved him._

The king’s flickering eyes, like twin dancing flames, watched Jeremy as he fell.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for killing off everyone's favorite character, the Rimmiest of Tims ;)  
> From here on out, there will be a lot more ot6 interactions, which will be fun. Speaking of which, besides Michael and Gavin, another one of the six made a small, sneaky appearance in this chapter. Did you catch it?  
> As always, thank you for reading!


	4. Vagabond Stars

 Jeremy came to consciousness feeling more comfortable than he ever had in his entire life.

He had never really thought about it before, but he hadn’t slept in many good beds in his lifetime. Especially recently, with the sweaty dogpile that had been the warrior’s preferred way of sleeping, and then the scratchy hammock from his days at sea. Even his bed back in Lindsay’s domain had been lumpy and hard, and back before that, well, he didn’t exactly have the luxury to think of beds.

But wherever he was laying now easily blew all of that out of the water. It was warm and soft, like he was enfolded between the clouds. He would’ve been content to lie there forever, but light was piercing insistently at his eyelids. He reluctantly opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. 

He was lying in a stately four-poster bed, cocooned on all sides by fluffy furs and feathery soft comforters. The room was brightly lit, walls with red-stained wood paneling, interspaced with paintings of smiling people. A rack of shining, evil-looking weapons stood in the corner. Directly across from Jeremy was a massive stone fireplace, large enough that Jeremy could fit the entire bed inside. It was crackling with gentle flames, and a man stood in front of it, feeding it logs. _The doctor?_ Jeremy wondered. He wasn’t sure why, but as he stared at the man’s back, he felt a prickle of apprehension run up his neck.

As Jeremy made a move to sit up, he felt a sharp whip of pain snap through him. He looked down to notice that he was almost wrapped up entirely in bandages. His left arm was in a splint, and his hands, head, throat, and chest were tied up tight with wrappings. _Ah, right. The tournament._ His head began to ache as he struggled to remember what exactly had happened. He distinctly recalled getting the shit beat out of him by that Rimulus person, and then passing out after. So why was still alive then? Hadn’t he lost?

No, there had been more than that. A whisper of golden hair, a flash of blinding light, hands tight around his throat, and eyes that burned with red hot rage. Jeremy’s head spun in confusion. Had he-?

“You’re awake? Fucking finally,” a rough voice announced from across the room. It was the supposed doctor, his arms crossed and his expression twisted into one of annoyance. His face was surprisingly boyish and soft looking, in sharp contrast to his sour tone.

As their eyes met, Jeremy felt another familiar chill trickle down his spine. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. The man chuckled, and crossed the room, handing him a tankard of water. Jeremy took it gratefully and gulped the cool liquid down, loosening his cracked throat. The man watched him intensely as he drank, making Jeremy grimace awkwardly as he finished the drink.

“Who…are you?” Jeremy got out, his voice thin.

“You don’t even recognize your own hero? You’re breaking my heart.” His tone was teasing.

Jeremy’s eyes widened in realization. “Ki-King Michael?”

“The one and only.”

Jeremy gaped. There was no way that could be true. The king from last night was barely a man at all- face distorted by blood and rain and war paint, flames cowing away from his leather boots, eyes shining like a beast’s. The man in front of him now, well… was frankly just kind of soft looking. Jeremy wanted to pinch his cheeks, which probably wasn’t the best thought to have in this sort of situation. But, the more he stared at the person in front of him, the more he began to see certain similarities between him and the king: the cocky tilt of the head, the smug smile, the wild mane of hair. They really were the same person, weren’t they?

“Wha-? Where…uh…what?” Jeremy said intelligently.

“You aren’t still concussed, are you?” King Michael reached forward and lightly grabbed Jeremy’s chin, turning it to each side as the king studied his expression. His hands were calloused and hot like a fever. Jeremy froze like a terrified animal, insides floundering before King Michael’s warm hand released him. “Did you really forget? Even after I saved your fucking life?”

Jeremy could remember now. The king had saved him. As Jeremy had his life squeezed out of him, the king had jumped across the pit and beheaded Rimulus like it was nothing. Jeremy was no stranger to people being killed, but he still felt nausea tug at his stomach.

“You did do that, didn’t you?” Jeremy breathed, overwhelmed.

“Well, aren’t you an ungrateful little fuck,” King Michael said, a bit crossly.

With a start, Jeremy realized what a dangerous situation he was in. He was lying, injured, in a bed, while the unpredictable man watched his every move, eyebrows already pulled together in annoyance. If he said the wrong thing, his head might be rolling around with Rimulus’, which was just a gross thought altogether. All the etiquette that Trevor had taught him slipped out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry…your majesty. I’m just a little confused right now,” Jeremy said, threading his sweaty palms together tensely.

“Don’t call me that, you’ll give me hives. Just call me Michael.” The king made a disgusted face.

Right. Trevor had told him that the Feral King despised titles. He mentally slapped himself. Though calling a king just by his first name didn’t sit right with him, he knew that disobeying him would give his neck an invitation to a comfortable seat on a guillotine. He took another gulp of water from the tankard and cleared his aching throat.

“Well, um…Michael, could you perhaps tell me where I am? And how I got here?”

“I suppose I could tell you,” Michael mused, eyes sparkling. He scooted Jeremy’s leg out of the way and sat, the bed dipping under his weight. Jeremy resisted the urge to lean as far away from the king as possible. “After you passed out you were pretty badly injured: dislocated shoulder, broken knuckle, cracked rib, and a mild concussion to top it all off. We took you to Geoff’s infirmary but after they treated you they kicked you out to make room for others. I didn’t think it’d the best idea to leave in my idiot’s barracks, so I took you to my room instead.”

“I’m…I’m in your room?” Jeremy immediately shot up, nearly knocking Michael out of his way. As soon as he put weight on his legs, he buckled, nearly crumpling to the ground. Before he could, however, Michael’s arm shot out and steadied him.

“Woah there, slow the fuck down. I realize you’re embarrassed to be in your beloved’s bed, but you are still injured.” Michael guided him back to the bed, something like amusement glinting in his eyes. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about stealing my bed last night or anything like that. I went to sleep in G-” Michael cut himself off suddenly, lips pursed. “Well, I fell asleep in a different room.”

 _Beloved?_ Was that how Michael was interpreting this after what Miles had said? Or was he just teasing him? Either way, Jeremy kind of wanted to die.

“But I have to say, your fight with that Rimulus person was something else,” Michael said excitedly. “Even with the odds stacked up against you, you just kept getting back up. And then there was that last punch. It was something truly fucking impressive. Where did you get that strength from?”

The king was impressed? With _him_? Jeremy felt strange. That power from last night, had it really been his? He snuck a look at his right arm. Compared to the rest of his body, it looked oddly untouched; the skin smooth and unbroken. The tattoo was still securely in place. Had he imagined those strange black veins creeping up from it last night?

“I wonder that myself,” he murmured, clenching his right hand into a fist.

“Obviously you were trying to impress your beloved,” Michael grinned. Jeremy blanched. _Why wouldn’t he just let that go already?_ “And I guess it worked. Congratulations on making it into my guard.”

Jeremy blinked, scarcely daring to hope. “I made it?”

“Of course. Adam told me about how you were shit at everything, but he also likes you, so that goes a long way. We both think you have great potential, if you’re trained the right way. So, protect me well, _Jeremy_.” His lips wrapped around Jeremy’s name in a teasing way.

Jeremy felt relief flood over him. He did it, he made it. He didn’t care by what means that it had happened. _I’m getting there, Lindsay,_ he thought.

Feeling lighter than he had in a while, Jeremy reached out and pulled at Michael’s hand so that it lay over his heart. As Michael’s eyes widened, Jeremy let out a soft smile. According to Trevor, this move was a sign of absolute respect. It was used in times of servitude, usually accompanied by some sort of flashy declaration.  He hoped it served the situation well.

“I will. Until my dying breath,” he promised. Michael’s mouth widened into a genuine smile.

Jeremy wondered if Michael could tell by the staccato of his heartbeats that he was just a fake after all.

 

* * *

 

 

The king was a rather overwhelming guy.

Jeremy frowned thoughtfully to himself as he made his way out of the castle. After Michael left him, the actual doctor, a wiry man named Caleb, came to check up on him. He was given another healing potion to consume later, when his energy was at a peak. Jeremy was pretty excited to lose his injuries- it hurt a bit to breathe and the necklace of burnt handprints around his throat was none too pretty- but it was dangerous to have more than one healing potion too close together, so he’d have to wait. That did mean, however, that he would have the next couple days off to make a full recovery.

As he walked, he couldn’t help the small prickle of guilt that wormed its way into the stomach. The Feral King had not been what he expected in the slightest. Sure, he had beheaded someone like it was nothing, but he also seemed like a rather nice person, if a bit rough at the edges. But, even if he was more human than what Jeremy would have guessed, it did not discount the possibility that he might be plotting against Lindsay. Jeremy would have to steel his resolve if he wanted to spy on the man, even if a part of him hoped Mica or Trevor would solve everything before he had to do any actual spying.

 _Until my dying breath, huh_ , he thought as he made his way out into the castle’s forest. Suddenly, as he stepped around a cluster of trees, and hand shot out and grasped him by the shoulder, yanking him back into the shadows. As Jeremy let out a startled yelp, the hands wheeled him around and gripped him like iron.

“Jeremy. You’re okay,” a voice breathed, rough with concern. It was Trevor, dressed in hooded armor, with tired bruises underneath his eyes.

“Trevor, what the hell? Why don’t you just call out to me like a normal person?” Jeremy accused, attempting to wriggle his way out of the painful grip.

Trevor blinked. “Ah, sorry. Habit,” he said, letting Jeremy go.

 _Habit? An assassin’s habit?_ Jeremy was an idiot, but even he could tell that there was something off with his friend. He watched as Trevor pulled his hood off, his hair a mess.

“Jeremy, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have had you participate in that tournament,” Trevor said, his voice heavy with exhaustion, eyebrows pulled together with regret.

“What? Oh, it’s fine, I won. I made it into the guard, just like you said I would.” Jeremy put his hands on his hips proudly.

Trevor shook his head sadly. “No, no. I was wrong. I thought…well I thought you had died. He was practically torturing you, and I couldn’t do a thing. A guard found me out, and I could only watch as you…when you were…” Trevor trailed off, some sort of desperation building in his eyes. “After that, I thought you were captured or killed. After they carted you away, I couldn’t find you, and I didn’t…I couldn’t…” His hands were trembling.

Jeremy felt a wave of shock pass over him. He had never seen Trevor in this state before; it almost scared him. He wished fervently that someone else was here to help deal with this, as awful as that thought was. He didn’t have the slightest idea what he was supposed to do with this sort of thing. But, Trevor was one of his closest friends, so he at least had to give it a shot.

He reached out a hand and patted Trevor’s shoulder mechanically. “Hey, it’s alright. Everything turned out fine, didn’t it? I even powered up, or something like that.”

Trevor’s eyes snapped up to his. “That’s right. That power. Let me see your arm.”

Did Trevor know what was going on with his tattoo? How did he even know in the first place? Nervously, Jeremy held out his arm. Trevor reached forward and carefully rolled up the sleeve, revealing the tattoo. He studied it for a minute, mouth a thin line, expression unchanging. “Where did you get this from?”

Jeremy let out an embarrassed laugh. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t entirely remember? That day we first got here I must have gotten black out drunk. When I woke up, I had that tattoo.”

“You don’t remember a single thing?” Trevor looked exasperated.

“Not at all.”

Trevor let out a long sigh, rubbing his hands against his exhausted eyes. Then he looked up, fixing Jeremy with an intense stare. “Jeremy, listen to me. You can’t use that power again. It’s too dangerous. And that man… you can’t give him anything, alright?”

 _That man?_ “What the hell are you talking about?” Jeremy sputtered, but Trevor was already turning away.

“I’m not entirely sure yet, but I’ll let you know when I am. I hope I’m wrong. I have…I have to do some research, talk to Mica.” Trevor looked back at Jeremy, giving him a remorseful smile. “Stay safe, Jere.”

A strange feeling suddenly struck Jeremy, one that said if he didn’t stop Trevor now, something would happen. But as he raised a hand to protest, he hesitated. Then, his friend was gone, melting into the shadows, leaving not even a whisper behind.

 

* * *

 

 

“CONGRATULATIONS!”

Jeremy stared at the crowd of cheering barbarians, horror growing in his stomach. He had hoped that the barracks would have been already asleep when he made his way in, but he supposed that would have been too good to be true. Instead, the warriors were all wide awake as he made his entrance, hefting various platters of food. One person even had an entire hog lifted into the air, the fresh wound in its side still dripping blood.

“What’s all of this?” Jeremy asked uncertainly.

Miles stepped apart from the crowd, a wide grin on his face. “To celebrate you becoming part of the team, of course,” he beamed.

“I always knew you could do it!” The man with facial scars slung an arm around his shoulder.

“We all believed in you,” the woman with red face paint offered.

“Right,” Jeremy said, feeling a headache creeping up.

“How are you feeling?” Adam asked, looking at Jeremy’s injuries with sympathy.

“Oh? I’m fine, I guess.”

“That guy really beat you up, didn’t he?” Miles exclaimed, laughing. “We were all sure you were going to be pounded into ash. It was all so exciting!”

“Well, unfortunately, I was not.”

“Exactly! Which is why we should party!”

Jeremy really just wanted to go back to sleep. But as he looked around at all the excited faces, tankards of ale already raised to their lips in anticipation, he felt his resolve slip. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he mumbled.

The barracks erupted into cheers. The lute player, significantly more bandaged than the last time Jeremy saw them, began to play a raucous tune. Someone was tossing the hog around like they were playing a sport, and Jeremy had to duck as it came whistling past his head. The main table, just recently repaired back together with a couple planks and nails, was smashed apart again by someone’s meaty elbow.

“Do that again and I’ll have all of executed and your heads places on spikes!” Miles reprimanded cheerfully.

After the hog was dropped to the floor, the barbarians elected to start tossing Jeremy instead, to his terror. This was immediately put to a stop when one overpowered throw had Jeremy crashing into the ceiling. Now sporting a splitting headache, he made his way to the back of the room, as far away from the craziness as possible. He tried to imagine King Michael leading these people into battle and let out a small laugh.

“You look like you need this.”

Adam held out a tankard of ale, his expression friendly. Jeremy grimaced. He didn’t particularly want to drink, especially after his supposed black out just a few days ago, but it was all but impossible for him to refuse a drink if it was offered to him. He took the drink reluctantly, and took a gulp of the amber liquid. It burned its way down his sore throat.

“You know, I wasn’t surprised by your win the other night,” Adam said, taking a seat next to him.

Jeremy eyed him suspiciously. “You’d be the first.”

“Well, someone with determination like yours wouldn’t just let himself be defeated like that. Love is a powerful thing.”

Jeremy, who had been nodding along thoughtfully, froze. “L-love?” he said, choking on the sip of ale he had been taking.

Adam gave a fond smile. “Yes. It was obvious from the look on your face when you were talking about King Michael.”

Jeremy’s head throbbed. Was he talking about when Jeremy was begging for a second chance at the trials? He wasn’t even thinking about Michael when he was saying those things. To make his plea seem more authentic, he had been thinking about…well he had been thinking King Geoff at the time. And he had seen love from that? Jeremy felt himself sigh _. Adam and Trevor would get along great_ , he thought wearily.

Jeremy was getting a bit tired of people misunderstanding everything. And now, because of Adam, Michael was under the same wrong impression, something that was more embarrassing than annoying. Maybe it was a good thing that Michael didn’t take him seriously. He hoped they’d all just forget about this soon.

Jeremy stood abruptly, gulping down the rest of the drink and handing the empty tankard back to Adam. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m going for a walk,” he said.

“Are you upset? Michael and I thought it was rather cute!” Adam called out as Jeremy stormed out of the garrison.

He let a sigh of relief as he slammed the door behind him. Outside, the air was cool and gentle, breezing over his heated face. Best of all, it was quiet. He supposed the thing he missed the most since this whole mess of an adventure was having time to himself. At the very least, he wished he could bathe without other people around.

He limped across the castle grounds, his injuries starting to ache. Still, it was oddly peaceful in the courtyard; crickets hummed softly, frogs sang a throaty song, and the occasional wisp let out an ethereal whistle, all creating a strange, soft symphony, illuminated by the silver moon.

After a few minutes of walking, Jeremy found himself in a secluded garden, towards the back of the castle, off of the cobblestone pathway. The garden was more overgrown than the rest, the bushes untrimmed and vines curling haphazardly around giant trees. Clusters of glowing flowers grew in crowded clumps, releasing a sweet scent into the air. Wisps fluttered around excitedly, flickering like small, colorful beacons. They seemed to gather around in one specific spot, in the center of a white gazebo. They were surrounding a person, Jeremy realized, a man bending over and staring into some large device.

Jeremy found himself entranced by the scene, and stepped closer before he even knew what he was doing. On closer inspection, the strange contraption looked like a long tube set up on legs, with one end pointed up at the sky, and the other low to the ground, with the man squinting through it. As Jeremy crept closer, careful not to make a sound, the wisps began to whistle at him angrily, swirling around his head. Jeremy batted them away, irritated, and stepped in front of the device, standing on his tiptoes so he could stare down the other end of the tube curiously.

“Gah!” The man let out a yelp and fell backwards on his back, chest heaving. Rolled up scrolls tumbled from his arms. He looked up at Jeremy in annoyance, and fished around his pockets for his spectacles, which he put on delicately. “What the hell?”

It was the enchanter from yesterday, Jeremy realized in amusement. He held out his hand, and the man grumbled before taking it and pulling himself up. “Sorry about that,” Jeremy chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The man dusted off his pants and fixed Jeremy with a cross look. “Didn’t mean to? I suddenly saw every single one of your pores in terrifyingly clear quality. What did you think you were doing?”

Jeremy picked up one of the scrolls off the ground, and peaked inside it as inconspicuously as possible. It was some sort of chart, with various dots and coordinates scribbled on it in charcoal. The man snatched the scroll back. “I was just curious about what this thing was,” Jeremy said, motioning towards the device.

All at once, the annoyance melted away from the man’s expression. He crossed his arms, smiling smugly. “It’s something else, isn’t it? This is what you would call a telescope, one of the latest advancements in technology. It helps map the stars.”

Jeremy tilted his head. “Map the stars? Why would you do that?”

The man seemed to glow with excitement. “For many different reasons, Ser…?”

“Oh, I’m Jeremy. Just Jeremy.”

“I’m Jack. It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a wide smile, and the wisps seemed to circle closer, as if curious, casting the man in a soft blue light. Jeremy blinked, a bit stunned by the scene. Was the man a lich?

Jack motioned towards the telescope. “Look for yourself,” he said.

Jeremy hesitated, wondering if the man would cast a spell on him if he turned his back on him, but curiosity quickly won over. He bent down and pressed his eye to the end piece of the telescope, as he had seen Jack do earlier.

It was like he was looking at infinity. Thousands upon thousands of stars clustered together, blinking and shining against the dark backdrop of the sky, in sharper quality than he could have ever dreamed. Among them all sat the bloated moon, like a watchful guardian.

“Do you see that red star?” Jack’s voice was close to his ear, and Jeremy resisted the urge to jump in surprise. The man had a rather low, pleasant sounding voice. Jeremy squinted, and quickly located the red dot, a bit larger and duller than the surrounding stars.

“I see it,” Jeremy said.

“That’s what we call the wandering star,” Jack enthused. Jeremy backed away from the telescope so he could face the excited man. “While all the other stars move at the same, predetermined course, that one star meanders where it wants to go, never heeding to the laws of its brethren. Perhaps it is not a star at all, but something more.” Jack stared wistfully at the sky, moonlight reflected softly off his spectacles.

“If it’s not a star, then what could it be?” Jeremy asked.

“I wonder that myself,” Jack sighed. “Perhaps it is a god. Or maybe it is a separate world, a paradise just out of our reach. I want to go there myself someday, to see if it is true.” As Jeremy gaped at him, Jack lowered his gaze, scratching at his head and letting out a low chuckle. “It’s a silly dream, isn’t it? Everyone tells me it’s impossible.”

Jeremy shook his head quickly and grasped at the man’s hands, shocking him into looking into his eyes. How could such a passionate person have such doubt in himself? All of his life before he met King Geoff, he never had any aspirations or things to look forward. It almost offended him that someone like Jack would be so ready to throw that away.

 “I don’t think that at all! I never even thought about the stars in my life, but you make them sound interesting. If anyone could live among the stars, it’d be you. I hope you’ll take me with you, of course.” Jeremy let out a laugh. Jack watched him, mouth agape, and Jeremy flushed. “Ah, I was just joking with that last part-”

“No,” Jack said, smiling softly. “I’d take you with me.”

They smiled at each other for a bit, the rest of the world seeming to hold its breath. Jacks gaze was gentle and warm, and Jeremy felt embarrassment clawing its way up his throat.

“Well, that’s rather trusting of you. What if I was actually a villain? My full name is Ser Jeremy Murder-Kill, actually,” Jeremy said, clearing his throat awkwardly. He realized he was still holding onto Jack’s hands, and let them go quickly.

Jack let out a laugh. It was a really nice sound, Jeremy realized. The atmosphere around them was a bit heartfelt, and Jeremy desperately thought of something to change the subject. “Oh, right!” he said, a bit hysterically. “You were enchanting in the library the other day. Is that your job?”

Jack blinked at the sudden change in conversation. “Well, almost. I’m a librarian, technically speaking. I do a bit enchanting here and there, if King Geoff needs it.”

“That’s really great! You seemed really into it, so I didn’t want to bother you, and then King Gavin showed up, so I left to go check that out…”

Jack’s expression instantly soured, and the mood around them broke. _What did I say wrong?_ Jeremy wondered.

“Ah right, King Gavin,” Jack all but spat, distaste dripping from every syllable. The wisps around his head seemed to become more agitated as well, picking up in speed.

“Do you...not like him?” Jeremy asked, taking a subtle step back.

Jack looked at him intensely, his eyes searching. “Do you work for him?”

Jack was suspicious of him? Jeremy couldn’t believe how quickly he had fucked things up. “What? No, no, I don’t. I work for King Michael, actually.”

The other man’s expression relaxed a small bit, but his eyes still kept the sharp glint. “You’re with those brutes, huh? Well, here’s just a small word of advice, then. Stay away from King Gavin. To him, people are nothing but playthings for his own amusement.”

Jeremy absorbed these words, his fear growing. It was a bit hard to swallow, considering when he had seen the king, he had barely been able to stand on his own feet, but there seemed to be truth ringing from Jack’s words. But, if they were true, what did that mean for Trevor? He had been acting awfully strange earlier today. Was the reason for that caused by King Gavin? Jeremy felt cold, suddenly. He hadn’t even Trevor how he was doing, or how his spying was coming along. For all he knew, Trevor could’ve been asking for help.

He shook his head, dispelling his thoughts. No, he had to believe in his friend. Trevor was a smart person, and there was so much that he could do. He’d be okay. The stars reflected in Jack’s glasses seemed to wink at him.

No matter what happened, Trevor would be fine, right?

 

* * *

 

 

Even though Jeremy had the next several days off, he found it hard to relax.

 Adam and the others dragged him along to watch their training sessions, and Jeremy couldn’t help but feel horrified as the warriors lifted entire trees like they were simple weights.

“I can’t wait until you heal so you can train alongside us,” Adam grinned, tossing the massive tree to the side like it were a handkerchief. Jeremy hoped he would never heal.

Michael joined the training sessions as well for short periods to help. It was clear his men loved him. They gathered around him, with flushed cheeks and big smiles, like a bunch of overenthusiastic, muscly dogs. He could almost envision the wagging tails. Jeremy felt himself snort a bit at the thought, and Michael’s eyes locked with his at the sound.

Jeremy gulped as the king shouldered his way through the crowd and strode towards him. Admittedly, he was still very much terrified of Michael. _And if he mentions the ‘beloved’ thing again, I’m just going to throw up everywhere,_ he decided.

“You seem to be having fun by yourself, you lazy fuck. You better not be not be laughing at me,” the king said, hands on his hips and a small smirk on his lips as he stared down at Jeremy.

“What? Me? No, of course not,” Jeremy squeaked.

“Right.” The king grinned and flopped down next to Jeremy, swinging an arm around his shoulders. Jeremy flinched at the touch. “Anyway, I have a task for you, once you’re all healed up.”

“Already?” Jeremy inwardly groaned. He hadn’t even started his training yet. What could he possibly do?

“Yes.” Michael’s eyes twinkled. “Once the Mad King gets his fat ass over here, we’re having a grand hunt to celebrate all being together. I want you to come with me and Adam, watch my back, make sure I don’t get impaled or some shit.”

For the sake of his own sanity, Jeremy chose to ignore the comment Michael made about the Mad King. As he opened his mouth to protest, Michael held out a finger. “This is an order, by the way,” he said, and stood up to rejoin his warriors.

Gods, why him? Did the king just want to tease him more? He was going to get them all killed. And did this mean he was going to see all the other kings, including King Geoff?

Jeremy sighed, and wondered if his gloomy feeling of dread would ever go away.

On the night of the second day, Jeremy finally felt strong enough to try consuming the healing potion. Strength like golden light flooded his veins, and he felt the rest of his pain ebb away. Ecstatic, he peeled away the rest of the bandages and ripped away the splint. His skin was almost perfect again, save for a few phantom fingerprints around his neck. He let his lungs fill with air, and clenched his left fist, happy to feel no sharp stings.

On his third and last day of recovery, the Mad King arrived at the castle.

The morning of his arrival came like a festering storm. A heavy fog had rolled into the castle’s area, making everything grey and out of focus. People walked around like zombies, expressions lifeless and steps heavy. Even Michael’s warriors seemed more subdued than usual as they half-heartedly lifted trees, murmuring softly amongst themselves. When a low, ominous bell tolled, everyone jolted up stark straight, fear in their eyes. Jeremy bit his lip and began to walk towards the castle entrance.

“Where are you going?” Adam called after him, pulling on his sleeve anxiously.

“To see the king, of course.” Jeremy pulled free and continued walking.

“What? Do you have a death wish?” Adam jogged after him.

“I’m just going to look really quick, then come back. It’ll be fine,” Jeremy said, but his teeth were chattering. Maybe it was foolish, but he wanted to see the face of the man that had caused so much trouble to so many people. The bell tolled again, and Jeremy picked up his pace before he changed his mind.

“Well, let me come with you, at least,” Adam groaned, catching up to him. Jeremy just shrugged.

The two of them made their way to the castle’s gate, the fog clinging to their clothes. A crowd had already assembled there, but they were arranged in straight lines and dressed in muted colors, eyes downcast.

“Isn’t this just a bit too dramatic?” Jeremy scoffed as they fell in line with the servants.

“Not for the Mad King,” Adam muttered back.

Once again, the gates shuttered open, but there was no fanfare or mirth as the Mad King’s procession made their way through the gate. The crowd immediately dropped to their knees, and as Jeremy blinked in surprise, Adam shoved him down as well, giving him a pointed look.

It was as if death itself was descending the pathway.

The Mad King was dressed in armor forged from obsidian, decorated with shining rubies. A blood red cloak billowed behind him, twisting in the chilled air. He wore a horned helm that covered the top half of his face entirely, with only slits for the eyes. His mouth was an impassive, straight line. The aura that he exuded, unlike the other kings, was something akin to despair. It was smothering, heady feeling, like the fog around them. Jeremy’s head was lowering before he knew it, his neck feeling heavy, and his heart numb.

This was the man who had caused Lindsay so much pain. All those pointless deaths and wars, families displaced and stripped of everything they owned; that man caused it all. He was the reason that Jeremy had to be here, that Trevor was in such disarray, that Mica had to put herself in danger under him. Anger began to simmer in Jeremy’s chest, chasing away the fog in his heart. He stood, pushing himself off the ground, fire in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Adam whispered frantically, pulling at his legs.

Jeremy fixed the Mad King with his heated stare, channeling all of the hatred and anger he felt in his situation, for Mica and Trevor and Lindsay and all of the terrified people in his village, all into his look.

The king turned.

Jeremy couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew the king was staring back at him. He could feel his gaze, like a hundred frozen knives jutting into his skin. That stare challenged him, ordering him to grovel back on the floor like he was meant to, whispered to him in silky tones that he was nothing.

Jeremy didn’t move.

The Mad King’s mouth twisted into a smile. Then, he was gone, his black horse clattering nosily as it trotted on the pavement, his grim soldiers marching in behind him.

As soon as he was out of sight, Jeremy swayed dizzily. Adam immediately stood and steadied him, concern in his eyes. “Jeremy what the hell was that? I know you’re not aware of the Mad King, but that was stupid even for you. You could’ve been executed on the spot.”

Jeremy was trembling. “I… I don’t know. I was just so _angry_ and then I was standing and… oh gods that was so fucking scary. I thought he was going to vaporize me with his eyes.” He pulled at his cheeks in horror.

Adam sighed, patting his shoulder. “Well, you’re still alive, somehow. Just…try not to run into him again.”

“You don’t have to tell me that twice,” Jeremy muttered.

In front of them, the castle doors shut with a final clang.

At long last, the four kings had assembled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually ended up writing a shorter chapter for once! I'm almost proud of myself.  
> I am very sorry this story is ending up a bit long winded. I have so much fun with it that I end up putting too much ahaha. I'll try to be a bit more concise from here on out.  
>   
> I hope you enjoyed anyway! Geoff will show up next chapter ;)


	5. Hollow Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I updated early <3 Not that this fic has a concrete schedule, or anything like that lol.  
> I hope this chapter isn't too much of a mess. I knew that as soon as I introduced Ryan into this fic that my plot would derail, but I didn't think it would happen so quickly... :')  
> Still, I had a blast writing this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it as well!!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The beast stared at Jeremy with unblinking, black eyes, its mouth pulled back into a snarl, revealing messy rows of razor sharp teeth. Spittle and foam frothed from its maw, and its nose was scrunched up in anger as it breathed hot puffs of rancid air across Jeremy’s face. It was also, for some inexplicable reason, wearing a crown of flowers on its head.

“Well, you do serve under the Feral King, now. What were you expecting? To ride to the hunt on white ponies?” Adam gave him a dry look. He threaded his hands through the fur of his own warg, and the beast’s tongue lolled out happily in response.

“I think white ponies are the epitome of ferocity,” Jeremy sniffed. At least ponies didn’t devour people, like wargs tended to do. Jeremy didn’t have the slightest idea how he was supposed to mount the vicious creature, especially when it was looking at Jeremy like he was its next meal. Adam had assured him that the beast was tame, but that did nothing to soothe his anxieties. He raised an arm nervously and the creature snapped at him. Jeremy yelped and stumbled backwards.

“He can sense your fear, Jeremy. You’re making him nervous.”

“ _I’m_ making it nervous? How awful of me,” Jeremy huffed. The warg growled at him.

“Him. His name is Buttercup,” Adam said, swinging himself on top of his own warg. He adjusted his sword on his back. In the background, Michael was rolling around with his giant wolves, mouth open in a wide laugh as they slobbered all over him. They would be leaving soon for the grand hunt, which was taking place outside the castle. Jeremy would have to do this quickly, before the king got impatient.

Jeremy bent down and plucked a yellow flower. Buttercup stopped his snarling and tilted his head curiously. “Hello, there…uh, Buttercup. Do you like flowers?” The warg took a cautious step forward, its ears pricked up attentively. “Good boy. Look at the pretty flower.” He offered the beast the flower. The warg sniffed at the flower cautiously, before snapping the entire thing into its mouth and swallowing it. Jeremy stared blankly at the broken stem. “Well, okay then.”

The warg seemed to brighten up considerably after consuming the flower. Jeremy carefully put his hand forward and scratched at the beast’s head. It began to pant happily, nuzzling into his palm. Jeremy let out a sigh of relief. Suddenly, Buttercup jumped backwards and began to bounce up and down in place.

“What’s wrong, boy? You want another flower?” Jeremy asked. He bent down and plucked another, holding it out in front of him.

Buttercup dropped to his haunches in a crouch, his wagging tail straightening out as he began to wiggle. “B-Buttercup?” Jeremy said nervously, taking a step back.

The warg pounced.

Jeremy let out a shriek and began to sprint away from the beast, flinging the flower out of his grasp. Buttercup ignored it, leaping after Jeremy excitedly. Adam let out a howl of laughter, and even Michael and his wolves stopped to watch the chase. Jeremy ran as fast as he could, but it wasn’t enough. The warg caught up to him in two quick bounds, and with a snap of its teeth, pulled Jeremy up by the scruff of his armor.

“Bad Buttercup! Put me down, now!” Jeremy demanded, attempting to wiggle his way out of the beast’s jaw, to no avail. He groaned. Adam had just given him the armor, as a gift for becoming part of Michael’s guard. The armor was made up of hard leather and fur, and was a little more revealing than he might have hoped, but it was easily the nicest piece of mail he had ever seen. And now, thanks to a certain creature, it was currently being covered in drool and teeth marks.

Adam was doubled over, wheezing. “I think he likes you!” he exclaimed.

“Please help me,” Jeremy said helplessly, his legs kicking in the air.

The warg trotted over to Michael, swinging his catch contently.

“Oh, did you bring me a present, Buttercup?” Michael asked, lips quirked in amusement. Buttercup dropped Jeremy in a heap at the king’s feet, and began to pant happily. “You’re such a good boy!” he cooed, ruffling the beast’s hair. “Next time bring me something nicer, though.”

Jeremy grumbled incoherently as he picked himself off the ground, dusting grass off his pants. The warg’s wagging tail whacked him hard in the back, almost sending him sprawling again.

“I’ve never seen him take a liking to someone this fast before,” Michael commented. The beast had rolled over on his back and Michael scratched its stomach absently.

“Liking to my flesh, maybe.” Jeremy mumbled irritably, before remembering that he was talking to a king, and probably shouldn’t be whining. It was easy to forget that, even if he was wearing his demon-like war paint that day. “I mean, he’s a really good…wolf beast thing,” he amended.

Michael smiled and stood, the warg jumping up with him. He patted its back. “Alright, Buttercup. Enough playing. Let the asshole ride you, now. We’ve got to leave soon.”

Obediently, the warg settled down into a crouch and gave Jeremy an expectant look. Jeremy sighed and clambered on top of the beast, making sure to grab his sword. Jeremy thought it would’ve been strange riding the beast, but it felt oddly stable.

The weapon he was carrying had also been a gift from Adam, and Jeremy already treasured it more than anything he owned. He was a bit rusty in his swordsmanship skills, but he was pretty decent at the art. The blade was hefty and two-handed, and it glinted evilly in the early morning light as he sheathed it. It was a huge upgrade from his dulled spear that probably couldn’t even impale a mushroom.

Michael said goodbye to his twin wolves and mounted his own warg, slinging his own massive weapon over his shoulder. “Well, let’s be on our way then,” he said, mouth cracking open with a yawn.

The three of them made their way out of the castle grounds through the back entrance, leading into a massive forest. The first fingers of autumn were already taking root in the world, and leaves were starting to fall, waving gently in the cool air. The fog from yesterday had not yet faded away. Instead, it had somehow increased volume, making it all but impossible to see more than ten feet in front of them. The air was strangely stagnant: not a single breeze or sound making its way through the oppressive atmosphere. Jeremy wondered if the weather would keep like this as long as the Mad King was around.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Jeremy asked, voice hushed with nerves. Michael had pulled in front of them, his warg’s waving tail the only thing still visible in the mist.

“A place called the Witchwood,” Adam said. “Rather dangerous place. Perfect for a hunt.”

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to hunt anything when you can’t even see,” Jeremy huffed, squinting into the white fog.

“Well you better find a way,” Michael called out from in front of them, his voice a bit muffled. “I refuse to let Ryan win again. I can just see his smug face now, that fucker. If we lose I’m going to kill everyone here, including myself.”

Jeremy gulped. _Who was Ryan?_ He also wasn’t entirely sure how you lost at a hunt. By not catching a single animal, maybe?

“Oh, we’ll be fine,” Adam grinned. “Jeremy’s our wild card this year.”

“If by wild card you mean wildly stupid, then maybe,” Jeremy mumbled.

“Michael, you bastard! Didn’t I tell you to wait for me?” an offended voice called out from behind them. There was the clattering of hooves, and they all turned to watch as three figures emerged from the fog, cloaks billowing behind them. It was King Gavin, Jeremy realized, immediately freezing in terror. He was flanked by two rangers: a beautiful blonde woman and a rather serious looking man. The king and his guards sped past them to catch up to Michael, not even sparing a glance at them as they passed by.

“Oh, did I say that? I can’t remember,” Michael said glibly, letting out another yawn.

“Michael!” King Gavin exclaimed, nearly rocking off his horse, clutching at a checkered green scarf around his neck. Jeremy blinked. Had he seen that before? Maybe it was a big fashion statement or something like that. It was strange, but he felt an odd sense of familiarity from the king as he talked. He was probably just too tired, he supposed.

Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully as he watched the two kings interact. Michael had leaned off his warg to capture King Gavin in a headlock, ruffling his hair affectionately while the other let out rather unkinglike squawks of protest.

“They seem rather close,” Jeremy observed. Hadn’t King Gavin only arrived a few days ago? Adam gave him a smug, knowing look, and Jeremy blanched. He didn’t even want to know what the captain was thinking, but he knew that he was wrong. “What do you know about King Gavin?” Jeremy added quickly, voice quiet to not be overhead by the kings or the other guards.

“Hmm? Not much I’m afraid. The king is pretty new to all of this. Michael seems rather fond of him, though. I don’t suppose they call King Gavin ‘The Beast Tamer’ for nothing,” Adam chuckled.

Jeremy blinked, confused, before he slowly connected the dots. Immediately, his cheeks flamed. “O-oh,” he sputtered, face hot.

“Don’t worry, I’m still rooting for you,” Adam winked.

“I don’t need anyone rooting for me!” Jeremy protested, a bit too loud. Four sets of eyes turned back to look at him, and he smiled sheepishly before they turned away again. He might’ve imagined it, but King Gavin’s eyes lingered just a little bit longer than the rest.

Adam leaned in closer. “I have heard some strange rumors, though,” he whispered. “They say that the king before Gavin was something of a tyrant. He treated the lower class like trash, and gave them nothing. They say Gavin was part of that class, and one day he challenged him to a game. No one knows what that game was, but the next day the king was dead and Gavin was the new ruler.” Jeremy and Buttercup both leaned in more as Adam’s voice dropped even lower. “They say he is a king as ruthless as the Mad King. He turned the class system on its head: Fools became lords and lords became beggars. The entire kingdom was in upheaval. But somehow, it began to flourish. Some say he took all of those riches in for himself, and that he has a gilded heart: beautiful on the outside, but still very much hollow. In the end, he became exactly what he hated most.”

Jeremy absorbed this, staring pensively at King Gavin’s back. A hollow heart certainly aligned with what Jack was saying earlier. If all of that was true, then he felt even more nervous for Trevor than before. He idly wondered what Michael thought about the king. Gavin was currently whining about something, as Michael laughed raucously. In the fog, his figure looked blurry and indistinct, like a memory one couldn’t quite keep a hold of.

As they continued to journey down the pathway, the area seemed to darken. The trees thickened, branches twisting together eerily in the dim light like bony, reaching hands. The air chilled, and Jeremy’s breath puffed out in tiny clouds. He shivered, cursing his revealing armor, and pressed closer to Buttercup’s bristly fur.

His heart was starting to pound erratically as they traveled deeper into the woods, and he couldn’t help but think about King Geoff, as the time for the reunion grew closer. Some small, idiotic part of him couldn’t help but wonder if the king remembered him. He immediately shut that niggling voice down. It had been years, and Jeremy looked quite different as well. Besides, he was a _king_. There was no way someone of his stature would ever remember someone like him. He shook those thoughts away. Instead of worrying about something as silly as if his hero would remember him, he should instead start worrying about the Mad King himself. He shuddered again. What a mess this was turning out to be. Jeremy decided that he was just going to keep his head down and hide behind Adam and Buttercup as much as possible.

Suddenly, an indignant shout pierced the air. They all froze and exchanged alert looks, and hurried forward. They arrived in a large clearing, free of any fog. In the middle of the area, surrounded by several bored looking people, was King Geoff and the Mad King. Geoff’s face was beet red, and he was pointing an indignant finger at the other king’s chest, his mouth wide open in anger.

“Ryan, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he barked, his voice cracking with the volume. “Didn’t we talk about this before? We don’t have much time left!”

Ryan? Was that the Mad King’s name? He actually _had_ a name? Somehow Jeremy had always believed that he was a nameless, amalgamation of horror or something like that. He suddenly had a terrible feeling that he heard something he shouldn’t have.

Even though the Mad King was still wearing his helm, it was easy to see the man was irritated, his foot tapping impatiently and his mouth a tight line. He didn’t look up as they stepped into the clearing. “Geoffrey, we have company,” he drawled. His voice was a pleasant baritone, and he sounded a bit younger than what Jeremy would have thought.

“Don’t try to distract me!” Geoff stomped his foot.

“Hello, Geoff.” King Gavin gave a small wave.

King Geoff froze, the anger smoothing out of his face as he took in their group. “Oh, you weren’t lying,” he said, a bit of embarrassment leaking into his expression. He smoothed his clothes out and cleared his throat. “Welcome to the Grand Hunt!” he announced, bringing his hands up dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hurry this up already. I’m fucking freezing to death,” Michael said.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you just wore an entire shirt,” King Gavin countered. Michael took a threatening step towards him and he let a squeal before running and hiding behind his guards.

Adam climbed off his warg so Jeremy did the same, immediately ducking behind Buttercup’s hulking body. Buttercup made a questioning sound, nuzzling Jeremy’s head.

“Shh,” Jeremy whispered. “I’m hiding from the big scary man.” Buttercup snorted in some sort of understanding, conspiring way, and stood up in attention, hiding Jeremy’s form.

“Impatient as always, I see,” the Mad King sighed, facing Michael as his mouth thinned out wearily. “Fine then. I’m going to introduce all of the teams.” Jeremy peaked his head out. Now that he thought of it, two guards flanked every king. Did hunts always require teams like this?

“First is Geoffrey. His representatives will be Jon and Gustavo.” Two men, with identical looks of irritation, gave a small wave from King Geoff’s side. “Next is Gavin. He will be assisted by Barbara and Dan.” The blonde woman and serious looking man both politely bowed their heads. “My own team shall consist of Kerry and Mica.” Jeremy jolted. Mica was here, too? The two figures next to the Mad King were completely cloaked, and he couldn’t quite see their faces. They put an arm across their chest and bowed deeply. “King Michael will have Adam and Jeremy. Is this all correct?”

“Wait, I don’t see Michael’s second representative. Jeremy, is it?” the man named Jon asked.

“No, he’s right over there, hiding behind the cute warg with the flower crown,” Barbara pointed out.

“What? Is he really shy?” King Geoff guffawed.

Adam snorted. “Yeah. Painfully so. He’ll die if he makes eye contact with someone.”

“That’s not a thing, you moron,” Michael said. “And you, don’t be a damn baby, come on out here.”

With a strong yank, Michael pulled Jeremy away from his sanctuary and out into the open. However, his pull was so strong that Jeremy lost his balance and went sprawling forward into the dirt. Facedown in the dust, Jeremy let out a sigh. Gods, he wanted to die. Why did things always have to this wrong? It was more than a bit ridiculous.

“Michael! Look what you did, you killed the poor thing,” someone yelled above him.

A boot entered his vision, and Jeremy reluctantly looked up. It was King Geoff, offering him a gloved hand with a small smile. Jeremy blinked. Suddenly, it was like he was twenty years old again- face slammed into the pavement by the guards, hunger blurring his senses with its sharp pangs. Dirty, bloody, and humiliated, coming to the realization that there was nothing left for him. But King Geoff had stood over him and offered him a hand, just like he was now, and helped him. At that time, Geoff had been something of an angel to him- someone that had restored his strength and vigor to live. A savior, a hero.

“Do you…remember me?” Jeremy asked breathlessly, almost against his will, eyes wide as he looked up at the king.

King Geoff tilted his head in confusion, raising his other hand to scratch at his head. “Uh, sorry kid. I can’t remember the faces of every single one of my subjects, you know?”

Ah.

Looking up now, Jeremy could see that Geoff was not angel, or even a hero. He was just a human: with deep undereye bags and a creased face and a smudge of dirt across his nose. Jeremy smiled a bit sadly. It was strange how someone could mean the world to you, but they could think nothing of you in return. He ignored the offered hand and stood up on his own. Geoff gave him an almost hurt look, and squinted suspiciously at his own hand. Jeremy turned and jogged back over to Michael, who was glaring at him in irritation.

“The rules to the hunt are simple,” the Mad King continued, as if he had never been interrupted. “Representatives are worth one point each, and a king is worth three. The team with the most points over the course of three hours will be declared the winner. Each team will also be given a base to use as they see fit. There will be a barrier placed around the playing grounds. As for the means of capture, Kerry- if you would.” One of the shrouded figures bowed and began to pass out small objects to each person in the clearing.

 _Points? Base?_ Jeremy’s brow furrowed, feeling like he was missing something important. “What the hell is he talking about?” he whispered to Adam, but the man only gave him a frustrating wink. Kerry had made his way to him, and pressed what looked like three stone bracelets into his palm. As he raised one of the bracelets up to inspect it closer, he realized that small, golden runes were carved across the entire surface.

“To capture a target, you only need to simply get the bracelet around their wrist. The magic will ensnare them, and they will count as a point, or three. You can rescue a target if you so wish as well. If you press the button on the side, it will release them,” the Mad King said, tapping at his own bracelet in demonstration.

“Wait a second. We’re hunting each other?” Jeremy exclaimed, horrified as it all clicked together. The entire clearing turned to look at him, expressions ranging from disbelief to amusement. He had spoken a bit too loud, again.

The Mad King gave him a benevolent smile. “You make it sound so barbaric, Ser Jeremy. But yes, we are hunting each other, if that is how you wish to word it. There will be no killing or anything like that. It is simply a game. And kings love games, do they not?”

Jeremy gulped, deeply unsettled. The king’s gaze was upon him again, but he didn’t feel that awful, oppressive aura like he did yesterday. Still, he couldn’t but feel a sense of wrongness emanating from the man. He wondered if the king had remembered his outburst from the other day, but his smile was benevolent and bland, revealing nothing.

“I will allow you a few minutes to discuss strategy. After that we shall begin, yes?”

The clearing broke off into their separate groups, and Michael pulled Adam and Jeremy off to the side as well.

“Don’t you think it would’ve been nice to inform me about what was really going on today?” Jeremy said through gritted teeth.

“What the fuck else did you think we’d be doing? Chasing after deer?” Michael countered indignantly.

“That would be the normal assumption, yes.”

“Well, you were fucking wrong. Let’s move on already,” Michael said, crossing his arms. “I don’t care about strategies, but I have one goal: shove his stupid face into the ground.” He pointed across the field at King Gavin, who was currently huddled with his group and talking in hushed tones.

 _Were they friends, or enemies?_ Jeremy wondered, even more confused than before. “I thought you didn’t want…uh… King Ryan to win?”

“Oh yeah!” Michael snapped his fingers together and gave Jeremy a nod. “That too. But shoving Gavin’s face into the ground is the most important part.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Adam chirped cheerily.

“Wait, wait. What about the other teams?” Jeremy asked nervously.

“What other teams? Geoff? He’ll probably give up in the first five minutes,” Michael scoffed, waving his hand dismissively.

“You’re not worried about the Mad King?”

“Who? Ryan? Nah, he can bite me.”

Jeremy rubbed at his temples, wondering how such a carefree man was able to rule successfully over a kingdom. Though, considering his guard’s brawn, perhaps it wasn’t too hard.

“Why choose me as your representative, anyway?” Jeremy asked.

“Because I thought it’d be fucking funny. Stop thinking so much,” Michael said casually, though he didn’t meet Jeremy’s eyes.

“Well, that seems to be about enough time,” the Mad King announced, clapping his hands together. “Each base is exactly five hundred feet in each cardinal direction. Once everyone arrives in their location, we can begin.” The teams nodded, and stepped towards their separate starting points. Buttercup give a sad, small whine and Jeremy scratched his head and adjusted his flower crown before saying goodbye to the warg. Michael was leaving towards the east, but he was eyeing King Gavin’s team, who were departing from the south.

“I’m sure you’re all well aware of what’s at stake here for whoever wins, and for whoever loses,” the Mad King added smoothly. The tension in the clearing seemed to sharpen as everyone’s gazes hardened in determination. Jeremy wasn’t aware of anything, apparently, but he hoped that the prize for winning was some sort of vacation, or maybe a nice cake.

They set off towards the base, Jeremy jogging to keep up with the king’s large, purposeful strides. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about this so called ‘game’. It just seemed strange that someone as infamous as the Mad King would be perfectly fine playing along them, and not instead sacrificing goats and virgins or whatever it was mad kings tended to do. Also, the way they had talked about everything almost seemed to imply that they had done this sort of thing before, which was a baffling thought to consider. All in all, it was just fucking weird.

The three of them arrived at the base, which consisted of just a small, dead fireplace and a wooden bench. “How will we know when to start?” Jeremy questioned. As he said that, a giant horn blared in the distance, almost shaking the trees around them and sending frightened birds into the air.

“There you go,” Michael said, and began to stomp off into the forest, a barbaric smile on his lips. “Now let’s go shove that little shit’s face in the ground.”

“Gavin is in the other direction, Michael.”

Michael made an abrupt about-face, expression unchanged. “I fucking knew that,” he said. Adam and Jeremy exchanged exasperated glances before stepping in pace behind him.

Jeremy couldn’t help but wince as they followed the king. Michael had seemingly made it a mission to be as loud as possible, stepping on each branch like a crack of thunder, dragging his sword across the trunks with a rough scraping noise, and even humming loudly to himself. At first, he thought Michael was just being an idiot with no sense of self-preservation, but, as he stared at the resolute smile on the king’s face, Jeremy realized with a shock that Michael was doing it on purpose- making his presence known and goading people to come out and challenge him. He felt a small sense of begrudging respect at that thought. If you were on the top of the food chain, you didn’t have to worry about much of anything, he supposed.

“Try to stick together,” Adam muttered. “If you get lost you might just stay that way.”

The white blanket of fog was edging ever closer to them, and Jeremy let out a shiver, stepping closer to the Feral King. Michael’s humming echoed flatly in the stale air like an eerie funeral dirge, and Jeremy was suddenly aggressively happy he was on the king’s side. If he was on the other end, hearing that, he might’ve shit himself.

They arrived, after a few more minutes of walking, at King Gavin’s abandoned base. Michael let out a curse of disappointment and began to kick at the fireplace, scattering logs and ashes everyone. “Gavin, you cowardly fuck! Come on out!” he yelled into the forest, his voice quickly swallowed up by the fog. When only silence responded to him, he pouted and flumped to the ground. “Adam, look for tracks,” he ordered.

 _Did Michael think that Gavin was just going to sit around and wait for him to show up with a bow tied around his chest?_ Jeremy thought dryly.

The captain shuffled around the campsite, studying the ground and surrounding trees. After a few minutes of this, he shrugged in defeat. “That team specializes in stealth. The only way we could find them is if they want to be found,” he said in explanation.

“Fine then,” Michael said crossly, rocking back on his feet. “Change of plans. We’re going after Ryan.”

“Why not King Geoff?” Jeremy suggested anxiously.

“Because I fucking said so.”

Jeremy wondered if Michael was in a bad mood or if he always acted this way. He seemed a lot more relaxed back when Jeremy was injured. He threw Adam a questioning glance, but the man only smiled serenely in return.

The three of them set off again. Michael seemed to double in his efforts in making noise as he tromped through the brush like a rampaging animal. Every once in a while he would let out a bellowing curse, usually surrounding Gavin’s name. Jeremy rubbed at his ears.

“Can you shut the hell up already? I’m trying to enjoy the nature,” a voice whined from the side of them. They all whirled to see King Geoff, sitting down casually and leaning against a tree, cradling a flask in one hand and a book in the other. One of his guards- Jon, Jeremy thought- stood above him, arms crossed and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Geoff!” Michael exclaimed, something akin to reverence sparkling in his eyes.

 _Was this man seriously sitting back and reading in the middle of a hunt?_ Jeremy bit down his almost hysterical laugh.

“Where’s Gus?” Adam asked, looking around them.

“Gav took him,” Geoff said, taking a gulp from the flask. “Ambushed us just a few minutes ago. Only got away from us ‘cause Gus sacrificed himself, or whatever. If you ask me, he just didn’t want to walk anymore, that asshole.”

“Gavin was here? Which way did he go?” Michael asked, the flames in his eyes firing back up.

“What? Man, I don’t know. He definitely went somewhere, I guess.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “He went that way,” he said, pointing to the left of them.

“That fucker’s going down,” Michael said, cracking his knuckles.

“You aren’t gonna capture me?’ Geoff asked, lazily holding a wrist out without looking up from his book.

Michael looked almost offended. “Of course not. If I get Ryan and Gavin, I’ll have more than enough to win anyway.”

Geoff let out a chuckle, but his smile was sharp. “You might regret this,” he said, his tone a bit dark. “I’m only taking a break, but I want to win the prize as well.”

“Eh, it’ll be fine.” Michael gave a dismissive wave and began to walk off.

“Before you go, I want to warn you.” Geoff stopped him. He put down his book, and his sleepy eyes were oddly serious. “Ryan’s up to something. I don’t know exactly what, but it’s nothing good. Just try and watch your back, alright?”

Michael blinked. “I will,” he promised.

Geoff nodded, pleased, and the three of them made their way back out into the fog. Thankfully, Michael was a lot quieter this time, face pensive as he stared out into the woods.

They had been walking for about ten minutes when everything went to hell.

There was a slight shift in the cool air, and Jeremy and Adam suddenly found themselves shoved to the ground, Michael a hard weight above them, pressing their bodies to the dirt. Above them was an arrow embedded in the hard bark, right where Jeremy’s head had been a few seconds ago.

“Shit, they’re here,” Michael breathed, the excitement glowing on his face contradicting his words.

A laugh sounded from somewhere above them in the tree tops. “I’m going to catch me a Michael~” a voice sang cheerfully.

“Oh no you won’t, Gavin.” Michael laughed maniacally and took off into the woods at full speed, following the sound of echoing laughter.

“Shit, Michael wait!” Adam called after the retreating figure. He stood, pulling Jeremy with him, and took a step after him.

“I can’t let you do that.”

One of King Gavin’s guards, Barbara, stood in front of them, blocking their way, a dagger twirling in each hand.

“I thought there wasn’t supposed to be killing!” Jeremy protested, staring at the arrow and at her shining blades in horror.

“They didn’t say anything about maiming,” Barbara shrugged, and lunged forward.

Jeremy only had time to flinch as her blade came thrusting towards him. Then, there was a sharp clang of metal, and Adam was standing in front of him, his giant sword drawn, parrying Barbara. Even though he easily had the larger blade, his face was red with exertion as he pushed her back. “Kid, run!” he heaved out, giving Jeremy a significant look.

“Aw, how chivalrous!” Barbara laughed. “Too bad it won’t mean anything, though.” She brought in her left hand, and, with a sharp twist of her blades, wrested his sword out of his grasp and sent it skittering across the ground.

“Ah,” Adam noted, and then Barbara was clicking the bracelet on his wrist. The jewelry erupted with golden strings that wrapped over Adam’s body, ensnaring him almost completely like a cocoon. Barbara turned to look at Jeremy, her daggers glinting.

Fuck that.

Jeremy ran, pushing back branches tearing at his clothes and hurtling over fallen logs, his boots pounding hard against the compact earth. He didn’t hear footsteps behind him, but he could feel her- an ice cold presence pressing up behind him, emanating a freezing killing intent that almost stopped his heart just with the force of it _. What the hell is wrong with these people,_ he thought hysterically, as he slid past a crop of trees. _They’re not human._

She was almost upon him now, and Jeremy could feel that icy presence pulling at the hem of his shirt now, like fingers running playfully over his back. Then, just as fast as it had come, the presence retreated suddenly, taking the choking atmosphere with it. Was she…gone? Jeremy risked a look behind him, but saw nothing. He shook his head and continued to run anyway, not trusting his luck. He ran until he couldn’t anymore- his body heavy and air whistling painfully out of his lungs.

Jeremy dropped to the floor, chest heaving and limbs trembling. He sat there unmoving for a while, wheezing until he was able to catch his breath. Then, he shakily took a gulp from his canteen, taking some of the water and splashing his heated face. He took in his surroundings carefully, but the area seemed clear, and he let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure how, but he had escaped.

And now, he was completely alone.

He pulled his legs up to his chest and let out a shiver. Now that he was sitting still, the chill seemed to settle in even more permanently into his bones. The fog curled lazy tendrils around his ankles, as if coaxing him back into the woods. What was he supposed to do now? Michael had run off after Gavin, but he had no idea where the two of them could’ve gone. He could try making his way back to their camp, but his run had disoriented him, and there was no sun in the gloomy sky to redirect him. He wondered how much time had passed since the start of the game. Hopefully, it was ending sometime soon. He was already thinking fondly of the dogpile bed back at the barracks, which was a frankly terrifying thought.

He stood wearily, his bones creaking with the effort. He should at least try walking somewhere, he decided, before the Mad King stumbled upon him, or something horrifying like that.

Jeremy took a step forward, and a distorted face popped down in front of his vision. “Hello, little Jeremy,” it said, and Jeremy let out a scream.

He froze in shock, and realized with a start that the reason that the face looked distorted was because it was upside down. It was King Gavin; hanging from the tree above him by his legs like some sort of acrobat, his green eyes sparkling with mischief, only a few inches from his own. Jeremy scrambled back a few steps, catching himself before he fell. _So much for avoiding him,_ Jeremy thought. _Sorry, Jack._

But as he stared at the laughing king, he felt a wave of familiarity was over him. Those eyes. Jeremy remembered them, and his mouth dropped open.

He pointed a finger at the dangling man. “Y-you! I know you!” he gasped.

“Of course you do. I am a king,” Gavin said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“You know me!” Jeremy persisted.

“Hmm?” Gavin pulled himself back up into the tree, stretching himself out languidly so that he laid over several branches, his head propped up on his arms like a pillow. Jeremy didn’t have the slightest idea how someone could look so comfortable in a tree, but the lounging king easily achieved that. “No offense, warrior boy, but you’re not exactly the most memorable person ever. Even if I did meet you before, I’d probably forget you immediately.”

Jeremy flinched. He guessed that Gavin had heard what he had said to Geoff, and what the king had said back, then. His cheeks flamed as his pride crumbled. “I helped you out. You stole some marbles,” he continued, voice less sure than before.

Gavin smiled teasingly. “Why on earth would a king need to steal?” he asked.

“Well…that’s what I wanted to ask you…” Jeremy trailed off, feeling foolish under Gavin’s mocking stare. Was he wrong? Had he just accused an innocent king of theft? He gulped. “A-anyway, where’s Michael?” he asked.

“Michael? He’s a bit tied up at the moment, I suppose,” Gavin tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully.

Jeremy’s eyes narrowed. “Well, why don’t you get down from there so I can tie you up, too?” He hopped in the air, arms outstretched to pull the king down, but Gavin was just out of his reach. Irked, he stepped towards the trunk of the tree.

“Ooh! Accusing a king and then threatening him. How bold!” Gavin clapped his hands together excitedly.

Jeremy put his hand into a fist and put it against the bark. “I’ll have you know that I can chop this tree down with one punch,” he said in the most menacing voice he could manage.

“Really?” Gavin leaned forward, anticipation glittering in his eyes. “Holy crap, that sounds amazing! Show me.”

Jeremy sighed, his hand falling down in defeat. “Nah, I can’t. I lied.” Gavin pouted and slumped back down again. “But you know what I can do?” Jeremy realized. “Shake this tree really hard.” He wrapped his arms around the trunk and began to wiggle it back and forth. A sense of twisted familiarity washed over him. And, once again, the tree barely gave a tremble. Jeremy could almost see Adam’s judgmental eyes.

Gavin watched him attentively as he heaved and yanked, red-faced, against the tree. “Anyway,” he said. “Sorry for carting away your team like that. Barbara felt bad for scaring you as well. I just wanted a chance to talk to you alone.”

“Me?” Jeremy asked as he slammed his body against the bark. “What for?”

“I wanted to ask you a question.”

“What sort of question?” Jeremy abandoned his efforts against the tree, and scooped up a rock, throwing it up at Gavin.

“Well, I was just wondering something,” Gavin said. He tilted his head as the rock came hurtling towards him, observing its path impassively as it flew past his ear. “If you had to pick one person from all of us to capture permanently, who would it be?”

Jeremy, who had been bending down to pick up another rock, paused to gape at him. “What?”

“You can only pick one,” Gavin said, holding up a finger.

“I don’t…”

“Would it be lovely Michael, who you fight for so valiantly? Or Geoff, who you looked up at with such stars in your eyes? Or maybe Jon or Barbara, they are rather pretty. Or maybe-” he let out a pseudo-gasp, covering his mouth with his hand. “You’d pick Ryan? How scandalous.”

Jeremy only stared at him for a bit, not having the slightest idea what he could possibly say to something so idiotic. “That’s the most ridiculous question I’ve ever heard,” he said flatly.

“Just pick someone. You don’t have to think about it too much,” Gavin pressed.

“You sought me out just to ask that stupid question? I’m not answering you.”

The king pulled himself up into a sitting position, crossing his arms in irritation. “Fine then. You’re just as boring as Ryan.”

 _Had he…asked the Mad King the same question?_ Jeremy wondered. He pushed that ridiculous thought away, and chucked another rock at Gavin. The king easily caught it in his hand, and threw it up and down a few times, visibly pouting.

Jeremy sighed. “Okay, I’ll answer. I’d pick you.” Gavin’s eyes went wide. “That way I could throw you over a cliff so I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore.”

Gavin’s expression soured. “More threats. You know, you were a lot nicer to me when you didn’t know I was a king.”

 _Probably because you’re picking on my insecurities now,_ Jeremy thought bitterly. Then, he froze, taking in the weight of Gavin’s words. The king had gone pale, a bead of sweat making its way down his forehead. Jeremy let out a slow smirk. “Oh? Was I now?”

Gavin cursed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, you caught me, you ass. I hope you’re happy.” Jeremy was very happy. Gavin stood, the branches not even moving under his weight. “I’ll tell you the real reason I came to talk to you, then. If you tell anyone about what I did that day, I’ll lock you up in a dungeon so long you won’t even remember what light looks like.” His eyes had that dangerous glint again, the same as when Jeremy had the knife pressed up against his throat. Jeremy swallowed hard. Then, the king smiled again, the expression fading. “I’m quite fond of Michael, so let’s get along, yes?”

“Sure?” Jeremy said in a small voice. He thought about Jack’s warning, and felt himself tremble. He really hoped Trevor was alright.

“Anyway, someone is on their way here, so I should leave.” Gavin yawned. “And, one last thing.” Gavin’s eyes slanted up into crescents. “Don’t threaten a king. Not everyone else is as forgiving as I am.” And then he was gone again, melting into the leaves like a shadow.

Jeremy watched him go, his heart beginning to race. Someone was on their way here?  He drew his weapon, hands trembling. Maybe it was Michael, or Adam. But what if it was the Mad King? Should he leave, or take his chances and stay to find out? As he was agonizing over this decision, he heard the snapping of twig.

A figure stepped into the clearing, cloaked in dark armor and shrouded in the fog. It was one of the Mad King’s guards. Jeremy stepped closer, and familiar eyes stared back at him. Relief bubbled up warmly inside of him.

“Mi-” his relieved greeting was cut off as the woman suddenly shot forward, shoving him hard against the tree, knocking the air out of him. As he stood there gasping for breath, she shoved her palm upwards at his nose. There was a crack, and Jeremy’s vision went white with pain. He felt a light touch to his hand through the agony, and then Mica was gone.

“Wha’ the fuck?” Jeremy slurred, dropping to the ground. He leaned forward, red blood dripping into the dirt. Mica had just broken his nose and left. He cursed again. He was definitely telling Lindsay about this. He reached in his pocket for his handkerchief and wiped at his face. The taste of copper was already in his mouth. He sat there for a minute, dabbing at his nose and bemoaning his situation.

Then, as he reached for his pocket for another scrap of cloth, Jeremy realized that there was a small, folded piece of paper pressed into his palm. _Where did this come from? How long has this been here?_ he wondered, and unraveled it, careful not drip blood on the white surface.

‘ _You’re in danger,_ ’ it read in messy, scribbled handwriting. ‘ _He suspects something, and he is coming for you now. No matter what, do not let him catch you. Run._ ’

It was from Mica. But before he could consider this, he felt that choking, numbing aura again, seeping lazily into his limbs, locking him in place. It was too late.

Jeremy’s hands started trembling, hard enough that he almost dropped the note. Almost mechanically, he slipped it into his pocket, and picked up his fallen sword. The fog was rolling in thicker now, as if it was condensing in on him. _Stand_ , he told his legs, but they didn’t listen to him. Then, someone was humming softly, and it echoed sharply throughout the clearing, trailing off like a heartbroken lament.

“Michael? Is tha’ you?” Jeremy asked, voice shaking. He heard the humming come from behind him, and he whipped around, seeing nothing. Then, the humming was in front of him, and to the left of him, and then it was surrounding him on all sides, like a hundred voices at once, converging and clashing together in a discordant symphony.

A hand gently grabbed his shoulder, and the humming cut off. “Caught you,” the Mad King whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is a bit of an edgelord in this fic, isn't he? I like to think he just carries a fantasy fog machine around with him wherever he goes.  
> I'm sorry for cutting it off like that, though! The hunt was only supposed to be one chapter, but things got away from me again haha, so I had to split it in two.  
> thank you for reading!!


	6. Intangible Worlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely struggled the most with this chapter more than anything i've written so far. I kept going back and forth between how I wanted it to go, but in the end I just left it as I planned to write it like in the beginning. I hope it isn't too strange :')  
> There is a bit more violence in this chapter, but once again, nothing too graphic because I am a big baby lmao. I might raise the rating soon, though, just in case.  
> I hope you enjoy <3

_‘You do realize how much is at stake here, right? The worst thing that could happen is not your death. The worst-case scenario is that you get caught.’_

Well, shit.

Jeremy couldn’t move. The hand on his shoulder was light - barely a touch at all - but all of his joints were locked tightly in place. Whether it was from fear or some sort of insidious magic, he couldn’t quite tell. His heart beat lethargically and his eyelids drooped a bit as a wave of unbidden fatigue washed over him. He grit his teeth harder, resolutely willing the numbness away from inside of him. Then, the hand left his shoulder and the king stalked around Jeremy to lean against a tree across from him, that demonic, horned helm still hiding half of his face.

“You look so frightened. I thought you wanted my attention, what with that intense look you gave me yesterday,” the king said, tone light.

Of course he remembered. Jeremy swallowed dryly.

“Oh right, that,” Jeremy laughed shakily. “I wasn’t actually staring at you. There was a really big fly around your head, so I was trying to kill it with my eyes.”

The Mad King’s mouth twitched. “Ah, I see how it is. I apologize for misunderstanding, then.”

“That’s okay. It happens to the best of us.” Jeremy gave a nervous smile.

“Mica did quite a number on you, didn’t she?” the king continued, something a bit fond in his tone. He stepped closer to Jeremy and kneeled so that they were eye to eye. He lifted a graceful, gloved hand. “If I may?”

“Yes?” Jeremy said. He didn’t have the slightest idea what he was asking permission to do, but he had a feeling it was a bad idea to refuse the man. The Mad King pressed his hand to Jeremy’s nose and he felt himself jolt inwardly in surprise, going cross-eyed as he tried to see what the king was doing. There was a rush of cold energy, and Jeremy felt his broken nose snap back into place, soothing the pain away. He blinked, and the king stood again. He was a sorcerer. Jeremy should’ve been unsurprised, but he couldn’t help the tug of unbidden, shocked awe that flooded through him. Also, it was just a bit incredible how one could possibly make healing seem intimidating.

“Well, Ser Jeremy. I only wanted to ask you a few questions, if you’d be so kind to answer. If your responses are satisfactory, then we can keep this meeting civilized, yes? I do not wish to resort to tying you up, or anything more…permanent, but I will if I am pushed to do so.” His smile was amiable, and Jeremy felt ill.

“Sounds fine to me, Sir Mad King sir,” he croaked. Jeremy was suddenly distinctly aware of the cold vial that lay over his heart, like a weighted stone. His right arm throbbed, as if reminding him that there was another option as well. He shook those thoughts away. First, he would see if he could talk himself out of this, if such a thing was even possible, before resorting to such extreme options. But how could he outsmart a king such as him?

“Please, just call me Ryan,” the king said smoothly. “Before we start, I want to give a brief overview of your background, just to make sure we stand on the same page. If there are any discrepancies, feel free to correct me.”

“Alright,” he said weakly. Oh gods, the king knew his background? But was it his real one, or the one that Trevor and Mica made for him? Either way, Jeremy was not in a good position. His mind was in full blown panic mode, and he could barely remember his own name, let alone the fake backstory his friends made for him.

Ryan pulled out a scroll and began to pace, his steps quiet and elegant on the damp, desaturated grass. “Let’s see. You were born in a small seaside village in Michael’s territory. When you were young, your parents were killed by a couple of stray creepers in an unprecedented accident, leaving you alone in the world. How very tragic. Is everything I say right so far?” he asked innocently, head turned towards Jeremy.

Jeremy just nodded, not entirely trusting himself to speak. His hands had somehow worked their way into fists at his side, and a bead of cold sweat ran down his back. It was his fake past, not his real one, but Jeremy couldn’t find himself to be relieved. He knew that Trevor had given him this backstory for a reason.

“After that, an old fisherman took you in as his apprentice, where you began to learn the trade. However, years later, King Michael visited your village after one of his skirmishes. You found yourself awed by the man, and vowed to fight under him one day. You began to train, and eventually you made your way here, achieving your dream. Is this all true?” The king rolled the scroll back up, fixing Jeremy with another expectant smile.

Jeremy nodded again. How did he know so much about his faked backstory, anyway?

“Good. Then this brings me to the first question: where do you know King Geoff from?”

It was as if he had dumped ice cold water over Jeremy. He gaped, genuine fear working its way into his system. He had fucked up. Oh gods, he had really fucked up. Trevor had warned him about this sort of thing before, but all of that had been thrown away in Jeremy’s one moment of weakness.

The king took a step closer to Jeremy. “I’m sure you’re aware of this, but every kingdom lives in pretty well enforced isolation from each other. Up until now, we were all very much enemies. That is why I know that Geoff had never made a visit to Michael’s domain at any time in his ruling years. I also know that he has been completely locked up in his tower the few days since you’ve arrived here. Which means that the only way you could have possibly met him is if you had somehow snuck your way into his kingdom, labeling you a traitor.” Ryan took another step closer, and Jeremy could see the glint of eyes behind his dark helm. “Unless…you are lying to me?”

Jeremy had his back up against the wall, and he knew that the king knew this as well. He took a sharp breath through his healed nose, steadying himself. He couldn’t give into the other man’s intimidation. He had to think this through rationally, like Mica or Trevor would be able to do. But he knew that Ryan was right. The four kingdoms rather staunchly reinforced their laws of separation. If a person was even suspected of being an invader from one of the other domains, the punishment was death. This had led paranoia and fear to run rampant over the land, and accusations always ran high. Jeremy, who had spent his childhood in King Geoff’s land before the man had actually become king, had known many innocent people that had their lives taken for being suspected of being a spy. It was easy to forget that after he and many others escaped to Lindsay’s newly created kingdom for the promise of peace.

 So then, what could he possibly tell Ryan without dooming himself?

“I did lie,” Jeremy said, willing his hands to stop shaking.

“Oh?” The king leaned in, triumph growing in his smile.

“I lied to Geoff. I never did meet him before. I just wanted his attention,” Jeremy continued, face flushing with the lie.

Ryan pulled back, his smile fading away. “Really, now. And why would you want that? For money? Fame? Power?”

Jeremy was very aware that he was just digging his grave at this point. “I simply find him attractive. Is that so strange?”

A tense silence stretched between them. Ryan’s mouth hung open slightly. Jeremy wondered what his tombstone would say.

Then, abruptly, Ryan coughed. He brought his hand up to his head, and it clanked against his helm. He looked down at his hand, as if confused. _Did he just try to run his hand through his hair, but forgot the helmet was there?_ Jeremy wondered, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Somehow, he had found the action endearing, which was probably just inviting himself to get struck down by lightning, or by Lindsay’s fist.

“I…uh…I see. It was a pick-up line. Let’s…let’s continue on then,” the king said, a bit awkwardly.

Had he truly just embarrassed the Mad King into moving on? Jeremy bit down his almost hysterical laugh. He couldn’t wait to tell the others. ‘ _Hey, I know the weakness to finish this war before it starts,’ he_ would say _. ‘Just keep talking about romantic topics to the Mad King until he’s too flustered to move.’_

Ryan cleared his throat, and his expression returned to normal. “Anyway, after you arrived here, you created quite the name for yourself in only a few short days. You failed the normal trials, but were given a second chance by means of a tournament. You faced up against Rimulus, a man known as the stalwart bulwark. Yet somehow, according to spectators, you were able to topple him to fall with only one punch, even as you stood with one foot in death’s door. How is this possible, for a simple fisherman’s apprentice?”

The king had really done his research on Jeremy. He wondered if he had gleaned all this information after Jeremy’s defiance to him, or after Michael had declared him as one of his representatives. _Or perhaps he was just some sort of omniscient god,_ Jeremy thought wryly. It probably wouldn’t be the best idea to tell Ryan about his strange tattoo-induced strength, so he racked his brain for another answer. This time, it came easier. Maybe he was getting better at lying.

“It was rather simple, actually,” Jeremy said, attempting to instill his voice with some semblance of confidence. “I lulled the man into a false sense of security by letting myself get hurt. His guard fell after I continued to rise up from his hits, making it easy to push him over the edge, literally.”

Ryan pursed his lips into a thin, thoughtful line. “I suppose that is possible. One’s own arrogance is a strong vice.”

“Is that all you wanted to ask?” Jeremy said, wondering if he was truly lucky enough to escape from this sort of situation.

“No. I have one more question.” The king frowned, turning his head slightly to the right. “However, it is one that cannot be asked with words.” He raised a hand up towards Jeremy’s face, and soft mist began to curl from it, lazily extending around his body. Jeremy felt himself sway dizzily. “And now your king arrives, just on time.”

“Oi, Ryan! I finally fucking found you! Time to get your ass caught!”

Jeremy’s eyes widened as Michael came stampeding into clearing, flattening the brush underneath him like a rampaging bull. Jeremy had never been more relieved to see someone in his entire life. Michael skidded to a stop in front of them, eyes narrowing as he took in the situation.

“What the fuck, Jeremy? Are you going to let yourself get captured? What are you, a fucking idiot?” Michael said, hefting his giant sword almost threateningly.

Well, there went Jeremy’s relief.

Ryan didn’t even turn to acknowledge Michael’s existence, his eyes never leaving Jeremy’s face. “I am curious to see what your answer will be. I hope you do not disappoint,” he said. Then, he was gone, mist swirling where he once stood.

“Ah, shit,” Michael cursed, swinging his sword around blindly. “I forgot he could do that. Why can’t he just run like a normal fucking person?”

Jeremy tried so stand, but his limbs were unable to find the strength.

Michael turned his attention back to him. “Are you going to keep sitting there like a dumbass? Let’s go,” he ordered. When Jeremy continued to not move, Michael frowned. “He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

Jeremy shook his head. “No, I’m just a little…uh…” He sighed shakily. Michael rolled his eyes, and offered Jeremy a hand. This time, Jeremy took it, pulling himself to his feet.

“Thank you,” he said, giving the king a genuine smile and squeezing his hand thankfully before letting go.

Michael looked away, shifting a bit on his feet. “No problem,” he mumbled.

“Anyway, I thought you were captured by Gavin,” Jeremy pointed out, brushing dirt off his pants.

“What?” Michael turned on him indignantly, mouth curled up into a snarl. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“Gavin told me that himself.”

“And you believed him?” Michael exclaimed, voice rising in pitch. “You believed him over me? Who’s your king, here? All that fucker does is lie, you should know that.”

Jeremy flinched backwards. He had been so relieved to see the man that he had forgotten what a terrifying presence he had. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he said, waving his arms about in what he hoped was a mollifying way.

Michael only seemed to bristle more in fury. “And while you were having this friendly conversation about me, did you ever think to capture him, maybe?”

He took a threatening step towards him, but Jeremy, who was getting more than a bit tired of being intimidated, stood his ground. “Well, he was really high up and I was really, you know, low to the ground,” he said irritably.

Michael stopped in shock and let out a low, surprised chuckle. “I guess we’re both pretty fucking useless, yeah?”

“Maybe just a bit.” Jeremy snorted.

They grinned at each for a minute before Michael turned his attention back to the foggy woods. “We really do need to get some points, though. We’re already half way through the game.”

“Well, lead the way.” Jeremy motioned forward. Michael smirked and stepped back into the forest.

They walked for what seemed like hours, stepping carefully over gnarled roots and under reaching branches, attempting to navigate the labyrinth of wood. Jeremy, admittedly still a bit shaken from the events today, found himself tripping more than usual. Michael would always help him out, however, an exasperated smile on his face as he helped pick Jeremy up again and again. Jeremy wondered if this was something he was used to.

After Jeremy’s sixth faceplant, he realized that he was actually tripping over the same exact root every single time. “I think we’re lost,” he said as Michael pulled him up.

“We’re not fucking lost,” Michael countered, offended. “I know exactly where I’m going at all times.”

“No, I’m pretty sure we are,” Jeremy persisted, exhaustion tugging at his limbs. “Look, that tree even has a hole from where you punched it before.”

“You don’t know that. What if someone else punched that tree, huh? I doubt I’m the only fucking tree puncher around here.”

Jeremy let out a heavy sigh, and bent down, picking up a sturdy branch. “Maybe we should try drawing out a map, or something.”

“I’ll give you a fucking map,” Michael snapped, snatching the stick out of Jeremy’s hands. He knelt down and began to draw in the dirt with rough, violent strokes. After a minute of that he stood, putting his hands on his proudly. “There,” he said. Written in the dirt were the words ‘Fuck You’ in messy lettering.

“I stand corrected,” Jeremy deadpanned. “You know exactly where we’re going.”

“Damn right I do.”

They continued on, at a slower pace than before. Jeremy was dog-tired: his limbs were heavy and sore and stiff with cold. He could tell Michael was a little spent as well, his breath coming out in tiny huffs. Jeremy was also pretty mentally fatigued. He couldn’t help but repeat his conversation with Ryan over and over again in his mind, frantically looking between words, parsing every syllable, wondering desperately if he had missed something. It had all been too easy, and he would be no better than a fool if he believed he truly had gotten away from everything. The Mad King was just too crafty to be thwarted by someone as dim-witted as Jeremy. There had to be a catch somewhere. What if he had feigned ignorance the whole time, just to watch Jeremy lie and dig himself deeper in his hole? It was entirely possible. He wished he knew what the king had meant when he said there was a question he was asking without words. Was Jeremy supposed to do a certain thing? He didn’t have the slightest idea.

“What was Ryan talking about with you earlier? He said something about an answer,” Michael said suddenly, as if echoing his racing thoughts.

“He was just asking me some questions about my past,” Jeremy said vaguely.

“What? What sort of questions?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Jeremy said tersely.

Michael turned around to fix Jeremy with an irritated stare. “Why not?” he asked in a mocking voice. “Is your past that dark and tragic?”

“That’s not-”

“You’re like the definition of soft. I bet you’ve never even killed before,” Michael jeered.

“No.” Jeremy cut him off, voice serious. Michael turned to look at him, surprised. “No. I have, before.”

Michael stared at him silently for a moment. Jeremy studied the ground. “I’m sorry,” Michael said, scratching at his head, awkwardly.

A wave of embarrassment rushed over Jeremy. “Well, it was a long time ago anyway.”

Michael seemed to regard him differently. “Still, that sort of thing sticks with you,” he said, thoughtful.

“I guess,” Jeremy said. He kicked at rock on the ground. “I thought that because the man was evil, that he done so much wrong, it would’ve been easy. But it wasn’t.”

 Jeremy wasn’t exactly sure why he was telling Michael this. Informing a king about your murderous past probably wasn’t the smartest idea. He had never even told Lindsay before, as he was always afraid that she would suddenly change her mind on him and throw him out. But somehow, Michael was radiating some sort of non-judgmental aura, the kind that had one spilling secrets before they knew it. He supposed King Michael and his people were just different about these sorts of things in general. Jeremy bet that the warriors probably celebrated their first kill, or something barbaric like that.

“It never does get easier,” Michael said, voice heavy. “Not even after your hundredth. Or your thousandth.” Jeremy’s eyes rounded out in shock. Michael looked haunted, his boyish face, still contorted by face paint, drooping in exhaustion. Stripped of all his bravado, the king struck a lonely figure in the pale light. Jeremy was suddenly hit by the similarities to Lindsay. She was a lighthearted person, always smiling and laughing. But every once in a while she looked so inexplicably tired, as if she was carrying some invisible burden, one that Jeremy couldn’t even fathom how to hold. In the end, they were from different worlds, and someone like Jeremy could never understand, as much as he wished he could.

“As a king you have to make many hard choices. Ones that people follow without question,” Michael continued. “Because of me, so many people have lost their lives. Who am I to have such hold over them?” He seemed insecure all of the sudden, wringing his hands out nervously.

 _Because of you, many of friends might die as well,_ Jeremy thought coldly.

“I’m sure even more people have lived because of what you’ve done,” he stated instead. “You are only human, but those people will always see you as something more. A hero, perhaps.” He gave a grim smile.

“There is nothing heroic about what I fucking do,” Michael said darkly.

“That is true,” Jeremy mused. “But through your actions, you also give people hope. Hope to people like me that there’s someone strong fighting for what they believe in. That’s nothing to scoff at.”

Michael looked up at him, eyes wide and glinting with some sort of emotion Jeremy was too afraid to place. “I give you hope?” he asked.

Ah, shit.

“S-sure,” he said, feeling like the worst.

Michael turned away to hide his smile. “Well then, maybe it’s worth it, just a little bit.”

Jeremy had a strange tight feeling building in his throat. For the first time since coming to this city- even after the strange tattoo, the Rimulus incident, even after being threatened by the Mad King himself- he felt himself harbor a little bit of resentment towards Lindsay for making him do all of this _._ He shook that feeling away. _It’ll all be worth it,_ he told himself _. One king’s hurt feelings mean nothing if I could save my friends._

Michael stopped suddenly, confusion pulling his brows together. He held a hand out so that Jeremy would stop as well, and put a finger to his lips and then to his ear. Jeremy listened. At first, he perceived nothing, only the soft rustle of leaves and his own breathing. Then, he heard it. In the distance sounded the whimpering, unmistakable cry of an infant.

The two of them turned to look at each other, baffled. “A baby, all the way out here?” Jeremy asked.

“Maybe not,” Michael suggested. “It could be a trap.”

“But it could also be a baby that needs our help,” Jeremy said. “I’m going to go check it out.” He started forward, and Michael grabbed his arm roughly, yanking him back.

“Wait a second. I have a bad feeling about this,” Michael said, gripping his arm almost painfully. “Don’t you feel it? That sense of wrongness?” His nose wrinkled in distaste.

“No, I don’t. Look, I’m just going to see what it is. I’ll try to stay hidden just in case. I can’t leave a baby all alone out here,” Jeremy said, prying the king’s fingers off his wrist. “You go ahead and finish the game.” The infant let out another insistent cry, louder than last time. Jeremy rushed forward again.

“Fine! Let me come with you then, you stubborn asshole,” Michael groused, stepping in behind Jeremy.

Jeremy gave him a grateful smile and the two of them trekked deeper into the woods, following the sound of the infant’s tapering cries. The sound got louder and louder, almost piercing through the sullen air, and making Jeremy shiver. He was starting to feel what Michael had been talking about earlier with that sense of wrongness. It was as if something in the atmosphere had cracked. The air was getting increasingly warmer, almost turning heady and moist. There was a subtle yellow haze to the fog now, and it smelled vaguely of sulfur, leaving a sickly taste in the back of his throat, and causing a vague sense of nausea to roll in his stomach.

The infant’s cry began to soften as they approached the area where it was originated from, quieting down to sniffling hiccups and muffled sobs. “Hello?” Jeremy said, ducking low to scan the ground, wondering if the baby was tucked among the brush. The infant went silent.

“Jeremy.” Michael’s voice was quiet, but it snapped like a whip, freezing him instantly. Jeremy looked up.

Standing in front of him was the most horrifying monstrosity Jeremy had ever seen. At first glance, he thought it was some type of zombie, but as he continued to stare, he realized it was nothing of the sort. It was some sort of twisted hybrid, like a failed experiment- an amalgamation of zombie and pig. Rotten flesh and pink leather were sewed together to make up its patchwork skin, oozing pus and grime from in between the stitches. Entire chunks of flesh were missing in some parts, exposing the wet bone beneath. It’s mouth, under the snout of a pig, dribbled red blood and spittle, huffing out little whines- the cries of a baby. It blinked glassy black eyes at Jeremy, scrutinizing his every movement.

“Don’t move,” Michael whispered.

From behind the monster came five others just like the one in front of Jeremy, all breathing out the same whimpering cries, hefting wicked, golden swords. There was a snapping of a branch behind them, and more of them approached that way as well, steps heavy and dragging. The smell in the clearing was rancid as they surrounded them on all sides. Jeremy let out a shuddering breath, his body tense with waiting. The pigmen closed in, forming a tight circle- watching. Then, the one in front took a sudden step forward, and Jeremy jumped violently, swinging his sword out reflexively. It cut a shallow line across the monster’s chest. It blinked, looking down to watch grimy blood drip out of the wound.

“Ah, shit,” Michael said.

Immediately, the rest of the monsters surged forward, weapons glinting and their cries echoing loudly. Jeremy felt Michael press up against his back. “Try and isolate them!” he shouted. “It’s the only chance we have!”

Jeremy didn’t have time to agree before the first wave was upon them, and he was barely able to thrust up his sword in time to parry the volley of blows aimed at him. A pigman on the right stabbed out at his exposed side, and he jerked the other way, nearly falling into the waiting blade of another. It was like a terrible dance as he parried and blocked and ducked, a dance where one wrong move meant death. But he felt the warm, solid presence of Michael at his back, filling him with a tangible sense of confidence. The two of them worked together like a graceful pair in a tango: Michael blocked blows aimed for Jeremy and in turn Jeremy pushed back enemies rushing towards Michael.

For a euphoric minute, it seemed as if they had the upper hand. Michael was an absolute beast. The arcs of his sword were tight and controlled, cutting wide lines through the torsos of the monsters, spraying thick blood everywhere. His mouth was stretched into a wild grin, and his eyes were tinged with that glowing red.

Then, over the haze of the battle, there was the sound of a keening cry, and twenty more of the pigmen stepped into the clearing, rushing forward to reinforce their fallen allies.

They were quickly overwhelmed.

The red faded from Michael’s eyes, and his smile turned into a grimace as the fight took on a more desperate tone. Jeremy was quickly losing steam, his swipes of his sword becoming heavy and sluggish as he fought off enemy after enemy. But they kept getting up, lunging themselves at him again as if they hadn’t been hurt at all. And they were fast as well, fast enough that Jeremy was scared to blink lest he not see a crucial attack. It was only a matter of time before he missed a step in the dance.

“Jeremy, watch out!”

Jeremy stumbled. A pigman, who was crawling low to the ground out of his view, suddenly swiped forward, cutting across Jeremy’s calves. He let out a yelp of pain and collapsed, looking up just in time to watch as another sword came arcing down towards his head. There was a thunk of impact, and Jeremy’s vision whited out for a second. Then, his vision returned. Michael was standing in front of him with his arms stretched out protectively, the sword embedded deep into his shoulder, his own blade stuck in the torso of a different pigman. He gave Jeremy a watery smile.

“You’re in the fucking way. Let your king take of this,” he said, blood staining his lips. “I’m gonna be your hope one more time.” Jeremy felt his heart drop. Then, he felt himself being lifted in the air, and, before he could understand what was happening, he was airborne. Michael had thrown him, like he had weighed no more than a small child. He flew over the pigmen and sailed right into the ground a good way away from the fight, skidding and rolling across the dirt, his legs screaming in protest.

“Alright, you fuckers! Let’s do this!” Michael roared, the vibrant red bleeding back into his eyes.

“Shit!” Jeremy tried to stand, but his legs gave, blood pooling around him. He grit his teeth and began to slowly drag himself forward.

Michael became a flurry of movement, his sword a shining blur as he swung at the army around him, cutting them down in waves. But it wasn’t enough. Jeremy could tell he was in pain. His mouth was pulled down in a wince and his steps were clumsy, and he began to make mistakes. A pigman from behind him sliced out at his back, and as he whirled to parry it, another struck out on his arm. Not even a god could defend from all sides like this. Michael was getting injury after injury, and he just couldn’t keep up anymore.

Oh gods, what should he do? Jeremy held up his right arm, clenched his hand into a fist. Trevor had warned him not to use his power again. Besides, he didn’t even know how to activate it in the first place.

 _Shouldn’t you just let him die?_ A soothing voice whispered inside his head. _He might be plotting to kill everyone you love. He is a monster, one that will step over everyone else to get what he wants, someone you can never truly understand. If you run away now, no one would know, and you’d be closer to your goal. Just let him go._

For a small, horrifying moment, Jeremy felt himself hesitate. Then, he shook himself. He had not known Michael long, but he knew that he was a kind man, one that only wanted the best for his people. He had already sacrificed himself to save someone like him. Jeremy couldn’t let him die, not like this. He dragged himself to his knees and ripped off the bandages surrounding his tattoo.

Suddenly, a ragged shout pierced through the clearing. Michael had gone still, and there was a golden sword gleaming through his chest. His eyes met Jeremy’s, and his eyebrows pulled up with something like regret before he fell.

“Fuck!” Jeremy surged forward, that cold power flowing through him. With frightening clarity, he could see the hoard of pigmen surrounding Michael, swords raised for the final blow. The next minutes were a blur as he sliced and hacked all around him, limbs and heads dropping wetly to the ground. Then, there was silence, and the pigmen were all slain. The heavy smell of copper and rotten flesh filled the area. Jeremy dropped to his knees in front of Michael.

The man gave a thick cough, blinking up at Jeremy. “You saved me, what the fuck? I guess we’re even now.”

Jeremy tore out a long strip from his shirt and eyed the wound in the king’s chest. Michael had pulled the sword out, which probably wasn’t a good thing. Still, it had missed his heart. Michael had a chance. He was mostly worried about the blood loss. “Technically, you’ve saved me twice,” he said. His voice was surprisingly steady.

“Oh yeah. I guess I did,” Michael let out a strangled laugh. “That’s good, because I want you to do one last thing for me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeremy said distractedly, pulling the strip of cloth around the king’s chest.

“Finish me off,” Michael said.

“What?” Jeremy froze, eyes rounded out in confusion as he looked at Michael’s serious expression.

Michael gave him a weak smile. “You heard me. Don’t you remember the rules of my kingdom? If a king falls in battle, they are as good as dead. And if you kill me, you can take my place. You could be king.”

Jeremy gaped, his hands, red with Michael’s blood trembling over his chest. He had heard of that before. It was survival of the fittest in his kingdom, kill or be killed. There was no place for the weak, and the king was the most extreme example of this. Just as Michael had slain his predecessor and took his place, whoever killed Michael would get the same honor. Jeremy’s head swam dizzily. Then, a wave of anger swept over him, and he grabbed Michael’s face, a hand on each side, leaving bloody prints.

“Don’t you dare say something like that. I’m not going to kill you, okay? You’re going to live, do you understand?” Jeremy said, enunciating each word.

Shock colored Michael’s face, and he blinked up at Jeremy with unsure, almost childlike eyes. “But-”

“No.” Jeremy cut him off. “I don’t even care if you’re going to be king anymore. Just live, at least for me, okay?”

Michael studied him for a long minute. “Do you really care this much?” he asked softly.

“Of course!” Jeremy all but yelled, something almost desperate in his voice. “Didn’t you make that stupid line about being my hope, or whatever? You can’t do that if you’re fucking dead.”

Michael’s expression hardened, becoming serious again, and Jeremy dropped his hands. “Then, become my Armilla.”

It was Jeremy’s turn to become confused. “Your what?”

“If you do that, we can share energy. I won’t die,” Michael said.

Jeremy didn’t have the slightest idea what the king was talking about, but blood was gushing out of his wound at an alarming rate, and the pallor of his skin was becoming ashy. “Sure, fine. What do I need to do?”

Michael smiled, his teeth pink with blood, and grabbed both of his hands. “Just that,” he said, and pulled himself up to kiss Jeremy on the forehead. Before Jeremy could ponder the familiarity of it, he felt a strange rush between the two of them, as if there were invisible cords tying them together. Jeremy felt a sharp pang in his chest, then another on his shoulder, and in various other locations throughout his body, and he let out a gasp. Then, the pain ebbed away into something more bearable. Michael opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes rolled backwards and he promptly passed out. Jeremy jolted nervously, but the king’s breathing was even, and his expression was peaceful. His wound had even closed up a little, and was no longer bleeding. Jeremy didn’t have the slightest idea what had just had happened, but it worked, whatever it was.

But Jeremy couldn’t let himself be relieved yet. He was exhausted, and wanted more than anything to curl up and sleep next to Michael, but he knew he couldn’t do that. They were still stranded in the woods, alone and lost. Some of the monster’s limbs around them were twitching suspiciously, and Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder if reinforcements were on the way. First, he had to get Michael out of this area, at least. Then maybe-

“So, this is your answer.”

Jeremy whirled to see the Mad King leaning up against a tree, his arms crossed and his mouth an impassive line. “Y-you…” Jeremy sputtered.

Ryan ignored him and strode towards Michael, nearly shouldering Jeremy out of the way as he knelt at his side. He studied the man’s injuries, eyes running over his body clinically. He brought a gloved hand to Michael’s face, and almost tenderly brushed his matted hair out of his face, his fingers lingering just a second too long before he pulled back again. Then he scooped Michael up in his arms like a bride and gracefully stood with a swish of his dark cloak, and began to walk away.

“Wait! Did you…is this your doing?” Jeremy asked. His hand was trembling, as if it wanted to reach out and stop him.

Ryan did stop, turning his head back to regard Jeremy. This time, his gaze was like ice, chilling him into place. “What we five are doing here is none of your concern,” he said, each word like a blade. “It would be prudent of you to remember your place, Jeremy. Someone like you could never touch our world.” With those words ringing in the clearing, he left, disappearing into the fog with Michael like a specter. 

Jeremy, kneeling down in a sea of blood and gore, could only stare after him.

 

* * *

 

 

The next few days after the hunt were surprisingly quiet.

Gavin’s team had pulled out the win, and Michael’s team had been declared the loser of the game by disqualification. Apparently, they had wandered outside of Ryan’s barrier. How that had been possible, no one quite knew, but Jeremy had an inkling. Thanks to King Geoff’s protests, however, they were able to escape the punishment that taking last place entailed. Jeremy didn’t exactly know what the punishment was supposed to be, but judging by Gavin’s absolutely devastated face at the news, he guessed that they had dodged a rather nasty situation. He considered telling the other kings about what he had seen in the outskirts of the forest, but Ryan’s glare had not so subtly told him to keep it to himself. Jeremy supposed Michael would tell them anyway.

He tried his best to block out every single memory of what had happened that day, and decided to send a letter to Trevor and Mica in hopes of meeting up. He desperately needed to gather his thoughts together and understand what the hell was going on. He couldn’t help but feel as if he were missing some important pieces to the puzzle. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t arrange his situation into one that made sense. All he knew was that the more he thought about it, the sicker he felt. He sent Pudgers off with the letter, but the bird never returned, and Jeremy was left alone with his thoughts.

The castle and city were busy with preparations for the rest of the week. After the actual signing of the alliance took place, a week of festivities, balls and feasts were to follow. The excitement was tangible as the days grew closer. People were starting to string up streamers and hang up flags from all four kingdoms, making the city even more of a clusterfuck of color than it was before. He was sure it was all going to be a headache.

Jeremy spent his time training with Adam and the warriors, who were more than eager to accept him into their regimen. After he carefully explained to them that he was a normal person, and therefore could not lift entire trees by himself, he was instead given logs to lift. Besides that, there was daily sparring and exercising, all easily nowhere near what an average human being could possibly do. Despite the more than ridiculous workouts, Jeremy felt himself getting stronger. His muscles were getting more pronounced, and he could run longer without exhausting himself.

On the fifth day after the hunt, Adam upped the regimen even more, somehow.

“If I can’t lift a tree normally, what makes you think I can do it while running?” Jeremy wheezed irritably, collapsing into an undignified heap on the grassy hill overlooking the barracks, logs spilling out of his hands.

“Oh right,” Adam said, pulling on his beard sheepishly. “I forgot how weak you are.”

“Normal,” Jeremy corrected. “You forgot how normal I am.”

The captain snorted and sat down next to Jeremy, handing him his canteen. Jeremy took it gratefully and gulped the water down, trickling some of it over his heated face. They sat in a companionable silence, letting the slight breeze buffer away their fatigue.

Jeremy turned his attention to the other warriors, who were currently surrounding Michael again. The man had been discharged from the clinic a couple days ago, and he seemed better than ever. Jeremy didn’t have much time to speak to the king however, but he wasn’t sure if that was entirely his fault. Maybe Jeremy was being a bit self-conscious, but it seemed as if Michael was avoiding him. Jeremy would have never considered the thought before, if the king hadn’t been so blatantly obvious about it. Every time Jeremy so much as entered the same space as him, Michael was flinging himself away dramatically, mouth spewing curses, as if Jeremy’s presence itself was burning him. When Jeremy had asked him how he was doing, the man had just choked on his spit and shot away from him, face enraged and nearly tripping over himself in his haste. And every time he tried to bring up what had happened that day, Michael would just start laughing loudly and awkwardly before fleeing. Jeremy didn’t really want to admit it, but he was a bit hurt by the ordeal. A part of him had thought that after the hunt, they would be a little closer. He remembered what Ryan’s parting words had been, and wondered if Michael had thought the same. This was probably his polite way of telling Jeremy to fuck off. Jeremy felt himself pout.

 _And it’ll be hard to spy on a king that refuses to be anywhere near me,_ he added, almost as an afterthought.

Michael was currently lifting one of the warriors like a weight, who was in tears of pure admiration. The rest of his guard stood around him in a circle, cheering and clapping. One of them had dropped in a dead faint. The king kept sending furtive glances towards Jeremy, and he wondered if Michael was trying to make sure he would stay in place and not come down after him. _Even I can take a hint,_ he thought bitterly.

The sun beat down on his head, and his clothes suddenly felt too tight, constricting, so Jeremy peeled his sweaty shirt off. He sighed in relief as the cool air hit his bare skin. Immediately, there was a sharp yelp of pain. Michael was hopping up and down, the man he had been lifting dropped onto his feet. The king’s face was redder than Jeremy had ever seen it before. The warriors had thrown themselves into a panic, running around their injured king in hysterical circles. One of them scooped Michael and began to sprint towards the castle, the others falling in behind him.

“What the hell are you doing? I just stubbed my toe, you idiots!” Michael protested, but the warriors were already barreling forward, knocking anyone and anything unfortunate enough to be in their way. Jeremy watched them disappear into the castle with the screaming king in their arms, his lips quirked in reluctant amusement.

“Hey, Adam,” Jeremy said, breaking their silence. “Do you think there’s something off with Michael?”

Once again, the captain gave him an infuriatingly smug look. “He had been avoiding you rather dramatically lately. Did you do something to him?”

Jeremy pursed his lips in thought. “Well there was that whole hunt fiasco. I did say some embarrassing things. But he still did make me his Armilla, whatever that means. Probably nothing, I guess.”

Adam, who had been taking a sip out of the canteen, inhaled sharply and began to choke. Jeremy patted his back as he coughed up the water. Adam shook him off and grabbed him by the shoulders. “He made you his _what_?” he rasped.

“Armilla, I think? I mean he was dying at the time so I couldn’t really-”

“Dying?” Adam’s grip became painful. His shocked expression was almost comical. “Jeremy please tell me what the hell happened that day. I thought you just got roughed up by King Ryan.”

Jeremy looked nervously at his grabbing hands. Should he be telling him this? “Uh…well it was kind of a mess. We got ambushed by…mobs, and they completely overwhelmed us. Michael got injured helping me, and it was pretty bad. And then he wanted to kill him for some honor type bullshit, but I refused. And then…” Jeremy trailed off, remembering the way Michael had looked at him like a newborn chick when he told him he didn’t want him to die. It left a heavy sensation in his throat. “And then he told me that to save him I should become his Armilla, so I did.”

Adam’s hands had dropped to his sides, and his mouth was completely open. “Gods…I…you…” he sputtered. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Jeremy, do you not know what this means?”

“Should I know?” Jeremy plucked a piece of grass and inspected it thoughtfully.

Adam groaned loudly and scrubbed at his eyes. “Well, perhaps not. It is a rather unused art, and isn’t talked about much outside the higher circles of a kingdom.”

“Interesting,” Jeremy said dryly, flicking the grass away. “But yeah, I really do not know.”

“The Armilla. The arm of the king. Jeremy, he made you part of his Regalia.”

“You’re saying more words that mean nothing,” Jeremy said, drumming his fingers on the ground impatiently.

“I can’t even remember the last time a king from our land took an Armilla. It must have been hundreds of years ago,” Adam said, his eyes glazed over as he stared out into the distance. “That’s because of the one requirement to become one is something almost taboo in our kingdom: to become Armilla with a king, you must be willing to die for each other.”

It was Jeremy’s turn to choke. “Die for each other? _Me?_ I don’t…I didn’t…”

“Obviously, it’s true. Otherwise you couldn’t become one in the first place.” He eyed Jeremy carefully. “Unless you are lying? But somehow, I feel like you aren’t.” He let out a sigh.

Jeremy’s head was spinning wildly. It was obvious that Michael had been willing to die for Jeremy; he almost had, in fact. But was it really true the other way around? Jeremy had wanted the king to live, of course he did. But to die for him? A man he barely knew? That couldn’t be true, could it?

“I still don’t understand any of this,” Jeremy said weakly.

“It’s a tough thing to explain,” Adam said, shoulders drooping, as if in defeat. “Think of it like a marriage, I suppose, but instead of romantic love, there is something akin to lifelong devotion. The bond between you two will be something almost unbreakable.” His eyes shown wistfully.

Jeremy felt as if he was one second away from fainting. The word marriage echoed hollowly around in his mind. “This is too much. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. I would have never…” Jeremy stopped. If he had known, would he have let Michael die? No, no. He still would’ve made the pact anyway, because that was the kind of idiot he was, in the end.

“You talk as if it’s a bad thing.” Adam gave him a curious look. “Didn’t you basically get what you wanted? You’ll be closer to him than most people could ever dream of.”

“I just…don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this,” Jeremy mumbled. “I mean, I’m not the only person who would die for him. His guard- you guys -are about as devoted as it gets.”

Adam looked absolutely baffled at Jeremy’s words. “Of course. We have nothing but devotion for our king. But that devotion is only for the king, not for Michael. We will support him as long as he remains strong. If that wavers, we will not hesitate to bring him down.”

Jeremy gaped at the cold, sure expression on Adam’s face. Trevor hadn’t told him anything like that. Had Michael really lived his life like that, feeling as he was worth nothing without his power? It was a cruel thought, and Jeremy felt a hot wave of sympathy wash over him. No wonder Michael had looked at him like that.

He also could understand why Michael had been avoiding him, then. He had only done it to save his own life, and know they were inexplicably bound by some suspicious lifelong bond. The king obviously regretted his decision.

“But you refused to kill him, huh? Even though you could have become king? You are a strange one. I can’t even imagine turning down an opportunity like that.” Adam said. _Yeah, sure. I’m the strange one,_ Jeremy thought, feeling a bit nauseous.   

Jeremy shook himself, and stood up.

“I need to take a piss,” he said suddenly, and all but fled from the man.

“But wait! I need to ask you if you got your-” Adam’s voice faded away as he ran.

Jeremy sprinted away, his face hot as he pulled his shirt back on. This bond between him and the king, what did it mean? He really hoped there was a way to break it. Otherwise, well, things would not end up pretty.

There was a sharp cooing noise, and the flapping of wings. Pudgers came bursting through out of the leaves, settling on Jeremy’s head. “Pudgers!” Jeremy exclaimed, relief almost bringing tears to his eyes. The bird stuck out a leg and Jeremy tapped at the small cylinder, taking out the small, furled note inside.

 _‘Please come meet with me as soon as you are able. I am waiting,’_ the note read in Matt’s familiar handwriting.

Jeremy’s mouth split open in a happy grin. It felt like a lifetime ago when he had last spoken to his friend. He had really missed Matt’s straightforward, easygoing humor, especially when surrounded with people that seemed fond of speaking in riddles and half-truths. He gave the bird a small pat on the head and sped towards the castle at full speed. He didn’t slow as he ran through the castle, ducking around protesting servants, and made his way back to the thankfully empty library.

He burst into the library’s backroom, and his excited smile immediately drained from his face.

Matt was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around his legs protectively. His head was hung down, and his eyes were dulled with exhaustion. He didn’t look up as Jeremy entered the room.

“Matt, what’s wrong?” Jeremy asked, falling to his knees in front of his friend.

Matt looked up at him finally, his throat bobbing weakly as he swallowed. “It’s Trevor and Mica,” he said, his voice small.

“Trevor and Mica? What do you mean?” Jeremy pressed, placing a careful hand on Matt’s thin shoulder. It trembled lightly under his touch.

“The two of them have gone missing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's chapters like this that I'm really sad I kind of locked myself into Jeremy's perspective at this point, because writing from Michael's POV would be more than a bit hilarious. Alas... :'(  
> Armilla is latin for armband, and were actually used in regalia by the celts, which are the people i'm kinda basing Michael's kingdom off of. I hope the idea wasn't too weird or anything like that. More will be explained on it later, I promise!!  
> Thank you for reading!


	7. Withering Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the lateness! Life has been a bit bad lately, so I haven't felt much like writing. But, this chapter is longer to make up for it, so I hope that's okay. I also finally raised the rating lol. I hope you enjoy!!!

Jeremy felt as if the floor underneath him was crumbling.

“Trevor and Mica are missing?” Jeremy echoed. He was suddenly extremely thankful that he was sitting. “What do you mean?”

Matt seemed to shake himself, and some clarity returned to his eyes. “I mean just that. I haven’t been able to get a hold of them for a week now.”

Jeremy sat back, sweat beading at his brow. “Well, that could mean anything. You know how Pudgers waits until we’re alone to give us the message, right? Maybe they haven’t been alone. Or maybe the bird just couldn’t find them,” he suggested in a soothing voice.

“No, he doesn’t work like that!” Matt protested, a bit loudly. “Even if that person is a thousand miles away, Pudgers can find them. He’ll always find them. But he just came straight back to me. So, I got nervous, and went around looking for them. In one of our dead drops, I found this.” Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which he handed over to Jeremy.

Jeremy unraveled it. The note was barely legible, the ink smudged and the handwriting messy and indistinct, like each letter was painful to write. The paper was stained with something that looked suspiciously like blood. After squinting at it for a minute or so, Jeremy was finally able to interpret it. “ _The lights are watching us,_ ” he read aloud. A chill ran down his back. What a strange thing to write. He sent a nervous glance towards one of the lanterns. “What could that possibly mean?”

“I don’t know.” Matt rubbed at his exhausted eyes. “But no matter where I looked, the two of them were nowhere to be found. I even asked some of the servants, and they said Trevor never even actually showed up to help King Gavin. No one had even heard of either of them. It was if they never existed here in the first place.”

Jeremy absorbed this, his mind running a thousand miles per minute. “Never existed in the first place? You mean they never did what they were supposed to? But I saw Mica with the Mad King, and Trevor had to have been working as well. What does that mean?”

Matt sighed, and ran a hand through his stringy hair. “I don’t have the slightest idea. When was the last time you saw Trevor? I heard that he helped you through that tournament thing. Did he say anything?”

“About a week ago, actually.” Jeremy swallowed, remembering Trevor’s strange attitude that day. “He was acting fucking weird. I told him about this tattoo I accidently got, and he got really cagey about it.” Jeremy pulled back his sleeve and unwrapped his bandages surrounding the tattoo. He held it out to Matt. “Does this mean anything to you?”

Matt blinked. “Uh, nice tattoo? What does this have to do with anything?”

Jeremy sighed and rewrapped it. “Maybe nothing, maybe everything. I think this tattoo gave me some powers, or something. And when Trevor saw it, he said it was really dangerous and that he needed to do some research on it. That was…the last time I talked to him.” Jeremy felt cold fear pool in his stomach.

Matt squinted at him quizzically, adjusting his spectacles. “How does a tattoo give you powers? That’s bullshit,” he said.

“Fuck, Matt, I don’t know. All I do know is that I somehow managed to punch a man ten times my size into a pit when I was half-dead. I doubt that’s just adrenaline.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll try looking into it as well,” Matt said, dismissively. “But what about Mica? Have you seen her?”

“Yeah, last week during the hunt, actually.” Jeremy sat against the crates, making himself as comfortable as he was able. Though he was sweating, he felt incredibly cold, and he pulled his legs up to his chest. “She was representing Ry- the Mad King. She found me during it, broke my nose, and gave me a note warning about the Mad King’s arrival. It said that he suspected something. He came and interrogated me about my backstory, but I managed to throw him off, I think.”

“Woah, what?” Fear sparked in Matt’s eyes. “Shit, the Mad King suspected you? How the fuck did you get out of that?”

“I don’t really know? I feel like I didn’t entirely escape everything, honestly. It was all really weird,” Jeremy said. He spent the last week in constant fear that King Ryan would suddenly melt from the shadows and pull him away. His nights had been rife with nightmares of the man, always out of reach, smiling that bland smile, mist sucking at his boots.

“Tell me everything,” Matt said, watching him attentively.

Jeremy did tell him, careful to relay the conversation and events as accurately as he was able. When he mentioned the pigmen, Matt’s eyes widened and his lower lip began to tremble. Still, he was silent as Jeremy finished his story with what he knew about becoming Michael’s Armilla. Matt was quiet for a hard minute, hands pressed tightly together as if in prayer, his knuckles white with the pressure. He closed his eyes for a beat, took a breath, then opened them again. He nodded his head and pulled out a notebook and a nub of charcoal.

“Okay, okay. Let’s write this all out, because this is kind of an absolute mess,” he said, voice shaking a bit. “We need to get down everything that’s been suspicious or weird, so we can pinpoint who is the cause of all this, if it is only one person.”

“Well, suspect number one is obviously the Mad King,” Jeremy said, holding up one finger. “If he suspected me, who’s to say he didn’t suspect Mica, as well? Maybe he found out she warned me, and is currently holding her captive.”

Matt shuddered. “That’s a possibility. But if he did imprison her and Trevor, why are we still here? I’m sure he would have ways to get them to speak. I’ve heard his methods of torture are deplorable.”

Jeremy’s hand went to the vial around his neck. “Maybe they…didn’t let themselves get captured, if you know what I mean.”

The two of them went silent as they considered this possibility. Then, Matt shook his head. “I won’t believe that, yet,” he said, eyebrows drawn together painfully.

Jeremy nodded. He didn’t want to believe it yet either. “Then, there’s those weird pigmen. The way King Ryan was talking, it was as if he sent them after us. But to attack another King he’s in an alliance with is just strange.”

“That’s not the biggest issue here, either,” Matt pointed out. “If how you described those monsters to me is accurate, then they can only be from one place: the nether.”

Jeremy felt as if his eyes would bug out of his head. “The nether? But there’s only one entrance to there, and its deep in a mountain and seriously guarded. How would that even be possible?”

“I don’t think it would be possible,” Matt said, gnawing on his lip nervously. “But there is the chance that King Ryan is an illusionist. The way you described him with the mist and the weird humming and all that, it all seems like what an illusionist could be capable of.”

“I don’t think an illusion could give me real fucking injuries,” Jeremy said, irritated.

“Eh, I guess. Maybe he put the illusion over regular mobs?”

“Why the hell would he go through that much trouble?” Jeremy countered.

“Well, I’d rather consider that possibility than the idea that somehow monsters have broken free of the nether, thank you very much,” Matt said, sniffing obnoxiously.

“Whatever, fine,” Jeremy said. He bit his lip for a minute, wracking his brain for anything else out of the ordinary. “There was also that thing he said me before he left, that ‘we five are involved in something I could never touch,’ or something along those lines. I’m not really the biggest expert in math, but I’m pretty sure there are only four kings, last time I checked.”

“Maybe King Ryan can’t count?” Matt suggested, then withered under Jeremy’s baleful stare. “Fine, fine. So maybe there’s a phantom fifth member of the alliance? An advisor in the wings, perhaps?” He jotted it down.

“Also, maybe it’s just a silly hunch I have, but I think the kings have all met together before. They seemed pretty close, more than just acquaintances,” Jeremy added.

“Hmm. I guess it would be strange to make an alliance without meeting with the other involved parties,” Matt mused. “Still, it would’ve been pretty hard to make that sort of thing possible, in this sort of world.” Jeremy nodded in agreement. “What about the other kings? See anything off?”

“Well, King Gavin is definitely the next most suspicious person,” Jeremy said. “I ran into a thief the first day I came here, and kind of helped him get away. It turned out the thief was actually him. Who would have thought?” He shrugged sheepishly, pulling a stupid expression.

“ _What?_ Why the hell would a king go around stealing? What did he steal?”

“That’s what I want to know!” Jeremy cried, throwing his arms up in frustration. “And he stole these weird marble- type things. Kept insisting they were important. They were pretty small, like a murky green color, and kind of looked like eyes in direct lighting, I think.”

“Green marbles? Well, if a king stole them, they are either expensive, rare, or magical.” Matt thought for a minute, his face scrunched up in concentration. Then, his mouth rounded out in realization. “I think I know what they could be. They have to be ender pearls.”

“Ender pearls?” Jeremy scratched at his cheek. “Like Endermen?”

“Exactly like that.” Matt gave a grimace, and the temperature in the crowded room seemed to drop several degrees at the mention of the dangerous creature. Jeremy had never seen one before, and was happy to keep it that way. No one came away from one of those encounters in one piece. If they were alive, they usually became a shivering, soulless mess. “I think it’s made from the eye of an Endermen, actually. I’m not quite sure what they do, but I don’t think it’s anything good. They’re rare too, perhaps rare enough that a king would resort to theft to obtain them,” he said as he wrote it down. “I wonder what he wants from them, if that was what they were.”

“I don’t know,” Jeremy said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “But he did seek me out just to threaten me into not telling anyone about it. So, I guess it’s pretty serious.”

“More research, then,” Matt said, groaning.

“I also talked with a librarian who seemed to think Gavin was someone that thought of people as playthings. Maybe Gavin is the one who captured Trevor, as some sort of twisted amusement.” Jeremy thought of Gavin’s dark expression, and felt himself shiver.

“A librarian said this? Maybe you should talk to him again, and see if they know anything else,” Matt said.

Jeremy recalled Jack’s harsh expression at the mention of the king, and felt himself wince. “I guess I could do that.”

“And what about King Michael?” Matt continued, writing more on the scroll. “I don’t know anything about Armillae, or whatever, but it sounds pretty suspicious. Do you think they were making it up?”

“I don’t think so,” Jeremy said, leaning his head back on the crate. “Michael is about as straightforward as it gets. He’s a good guy.”

Matt paused in his writing to look up at Jeremy, eying him intensely. “He’s our enemy.”

“I know that!” Jeremy protested. “I just…he’s not lying okay? It’s not him. Trust me on this.”

Something unreadable flashed in Matt’s eyes. “If you say so,” he said.

“And what about you and Geoff?” Jeremy said accusingly. “I’ve nearly died like ten times these past two weeks. Have you even done anything?”

Matt’s bottom lip protruded in a pout. “I’ve done things, too!” he whined. “Geoff hasn’t left his tower much, so I couldn’t do any spying.”

Jeremy sighed heavily. “Fine. I wasn’t really expecting anything, anyway.”

Matt gave him a hurt look. “That’s a bit rude. Well, lastly, there’s the weird note I found. I think we can safely assume it’s from Trevor, since it’s in his handwriting, and no one else knows where our dead drops are.”

“But Trevor isn’t really one for riddles in such important circumstances. Why couldn’t he have written something like ‘hey, King Ryan is murdering me, send help please,’ or something like that?”

Matt scratched thoughtfully at his beard. “Maybe he was being watched while he was writing it?”

“He could have written in code, though,” Jeremy refuted.

“Maybe Trevor knew he was being watched and wanted the pursuer to see what he was writing?” Matt tapped his chin. “Or maybe he knew that his pursuer knew that he was being watched so he knew that they knew that-”

“Okay, yeah, that’s too many layers. I’m just going to stop you right there before my head explodes,” Jeremy said, rubbing at his skull. For all they knew, the letter could just be nonsense, a red herring of sorts. Though, something about that thought didn’t sit quite right with him. He frowned at the note, running his thumb over one of the smudged letters.

 “Anyway,” Matt continued. “I think it goes without saying that we should avoid King Ryan at all costs. Also…I hate to say this, but I need you to start spying after King Gavin, as well.”

“King Gavin? I literally just got Michael to get me into his guard. Why would I switch?” Jeremy protested.

“Well, you aren’t really switching. You’ll still stay under Michael; you’ll just be shifting your focus a bit. It should be no problem.”

“ _No problem?_ The last time I saw Gavin, he threatened to imprison me for the rest of my life! Can’t you do it?”

“Nah, spying isn’t really what I was brought here to do in the first place. I’ll focus on research and stuff,” Matt said. As he spoke, he shifted backwards, and a few books fell over. A small blue ball flew up agitatedly from the mess, and darted outside through the slats in the wall. “Damn wisps,” Matt muttered. “What are they even doing here, anyway?”

Jeremy stood, his joints creaking, and started to walk towards the door. “Fine, whatever. I’ll do it. I’m going to die either way, so at least if I do this, you’ll know it was your fault.”

When he heard no response, he turned back to look at his friend curiously. Matt had his head down again, and was hunched in on himself, his eyebrows pulled together in regret. Well, shit. That had been the exact wrong thing to say. “Hey, look. We’re going to find them, okay?” Jeremy said softly.

“Jeremy…” Matt’s voice was small, barely a whisper. “I’m really worried.”

_I’m afraid._

The words, though unspoken, hung heavily in the air. Jeremy understood, he really did. The chance that his friends were in the clutches of such a terrifying person was a thought that was too much to bear. They had both been so strong, so sure of themselves. If they couldn’t do it, how could Jeremy? He and Matt were alone, and confused, with no ideas on where to go or what to do. Some part of Jeremy had really hung on to the idea that Trevor and Mica would have been able to solve everything on their own, and they would be able to return home without Jeremy having to do anything. But instead, they had failed, and now he was being forced to act. And if he failed as well, that would be it, for all of them. And this was all based on the assumption that they were even still alive in the first place.

Jeremy exhaled softly, and turned back to sit next to his friend, pressing their shoulders together.

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

 

* * *

 

 

_“You’re running out of time.”_

_The Mad King sat upon a black throne of intertwined branches, his head propped up by his hand. His other hand tapped out a methodical beat on the arm of the chair, and it echoed sharply through the wooded clearing, like the ticking of a clock. Behind him, Jeremy could hear Trevor and Mica laughing, their voices disjointed and bodiless. Thousands of eyes surrounded them, blinking with slit, purple pupils._

_“Why are you doing this? What do you want from us?” Jeremy asked, looking around desperately._

_Ryan leaned forward in his chair. “That’s an interesting thing to ask. You’re the ones that came to me,” he said in a reasonable tone. “Are you going to waste precious time to play the fool like this?”_

_Jeremy grit his teeth in frustration and surged forward, tearing the king’s helm off in one fluid movement. Underneath was a familiar face, and Jeremy wheeled backwards in shock. It was Rimulus, his skin still cracked and half-melted as he smiled down at him._

_“Tik tok,” he said, and lunged for Jeremy’s throat._

* * *

 

 

Jeremy shot up, chest heaving as his heart pounded in fear. His shirt was stuck to his chest with sweat, and his throat felt tight. He blinked away the dream as he took notice of his surroundings. The barracks. He was safe.

“Nightmare?” One of the warriors sat up, yawning, giving Jeremy a worried look.

“Yeah,” Jeremy breathed, willing his heart to slow. “Can’t really sleep much lately.”

“Do you want me to get you a cup of warm goat’s milk?” another asked, leaning forward on her muscled elbow. “Those always help me sleep.”

“Um…I’m okay,” Jeremy said, scooting away a small bit before backing into another waking member of the guard.

“How about a back rub?” a third warrior offered blearily, reaching out a massive arm.

“Or maybe a bedtime story?” Another of the guard sat up, pulling a pink book out of nowhere.

“One handed push-ups will knock you right out,” a fourth suggested.

“How about we just literally knock you out? Like, with our fists?”

The few awake members of Michael’s guard fixed him with expectant looks, as everyone else snored around them. Jeremy gulped. “You know what? I’m just going to…go get some air,” he said, and all but fled outside.

In the chilled night air, he took deep breaths before starting to walk. He couldn’t get his erratic heartbeat to slow down, and he reached up to touch at his neck, as if expecting phantom hands to be there. The dream had felt frighteningly real. It was as if his subconscious was telling him that Ryan was the one behind everything. That had to be the answer, didn’t it? He was the one who currently had his soldiers at the edge of Lindsay’s domain, poised to attack. So why did Jeremy still feel so unsure about everything?

He looked up to realize that without realizing it, his legs had taken him back to that overgrown garden where he had met Jack. The garden was abandoned this time, however. The gazebo was empty and the area was dark, the sky clouded and stars covered. The red, wandering star Jack had pointed out before was hidden as well. Jeremy let out a small, disappointed sigh as he leaned to look up at the gloomy, night sky.

This was all his fault, wasn’t it? He had noticed Trevor acting strange, but he hadn’t done anything about it. Instead, he just kept worrying about himself and involving his friend in his own problems. That day, he should’ve stopped Trevor from leaving, should’ve held him back and made him explain what was going on. But he didn’t. And then, he had stupidly angered the Mad King, and had let it slip that he knew King Geoff. Because of those thoughtless mistakes, Mica had to put herself in danger just to help him out. Gods, he really hoped he was just overthinking things. If they were really trapped, or worse, because of him, what would he do?

He clenched his fists, willing down the urge to hit something. He had never felt so frustrated and helpless in his life. He was just one normal person up against kings with strength like gods. All he wanted to do was help his friends, but in the end he had only hurt them more. How had things turned out this way?

“Why, if it isn’t Ser Jeremy Murder-Kill,” a voice chuckled from behind him.

Jeremy turned to see Jack, a bright smile lighting up his face. Instantly, Jeremy felt the residual fear from the dream and his own dark thoughts drain away from him, and he grinned in return. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Not many stars to track tonight.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jack countered. “Though I was hoping I would see you again, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Me? What for?”

“Well, because I wanted to, of course.”

Jeremy blinked. He didn’t have the slightest idea how the librarian was able to say such straightforward things like that. He was embarrassed just listening to him. “So, yet another has fallen for my irresistible charms, eh?” he said.

“I guess so,” Jack grinned.

Dear gods, there was no way to win against this man, was there? Jeremy turned away, glad the dark night hid his red face.

“I heard you participated in that hunt,” Jack said. His tone was conversational, but his eyes were a bit searching. “I hope you didn’t run into any trouble.”

 _Oh, I ran into trouble, alright,_ Jeremy thought _. I ran into every bit of conceivable trouble there was._ “Not particularly,” he said instead. He considered the possibility of bringing up Gavin, but dashed that thought away. He didn’t really want to ruin the mood again. “How’s the library treating you?”

“Hmm? Fine, I suppose. Nothing really interesting happens, honestly.” His spectacles glinted strangely in the moonlight as he ducked his head, and Jeremy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you enjoy your job?” he asked, taking a step closer to the other man.

Jack let out a surprised laugh. “Oh, I enjoy it enough, don’t get me wrong. I know I’m very lucky to have ended up here. It’s just…” He trailed off and let out a sigh, leaning against the wooden railing of the veranda.

“Just…?” Jeremy prodded, copying his movement.

“Well, I didn’t really want to end up here, I suppose,” he finished, something bittersweet in his expression. “I certainly didn’t think I ever would. Maybe it’s silly, but it feels a bit like a cage here, sometimes.”

A wave of empathy passed over Jeremy. He could definitely understand something like that. Even though he had always wanted to see Achievement City, he would’ve never believed he could’ve ended up there, with all of the separation issues between the kingdoms. He also never would have guessed he would end up in the castle. And the place was pretty stifling. It was a gilded cage, and Jeremy was locked in by his own responsibility. It was a heavy thought.

“What did you do before you came here?” Jeremy questioned, after a beat of weighty silence.

“Before here, huh?” Jack looked wistfully out at the sky. “I owned a small workshop, if you can believe that. Did a lot of woodwork for the locals in the village. It was small, and I barely scraped by on most days, but I had fun.”

Jeremy could see him doing that sort of that thing, actually. It suited him more than being here, entangled between all of the lies of secrets this castle contained, anyway. “What happened to that place?”

Jack quirked a strange smile. “It burned down,” he said.

“Burned down?” Jeremy exclaimed. “That’s horrible.”

“It was by that man that recruited me to come here, as a matter of fact. I told him I wouldn’t go while my shop still stood. He really wanted me to come with him though, so I think he took that quite literally.” To Jeremy’s shock, Jack suddenly doubled over and began to laugh, raucously, before continuing on with his explanation. “So I was a bit mad, obviously, and I rebuilt my store all over. He burned it to the ground again the next day,” Jack began to wheeze.

Jeremy watched him laugh, slightly horrified. “What the hell? Was he a pyromaniac?”

“In his defense,” Jack said, wiping away tears. “I don’t think he was entirely sure how humans worked.” _A pyromaniac demon, then?_ Jeremy thought, baffled how Jack could laugh in this sort of situation. “So, I gave up, and came with him here. If anything, I wanted to be the person to watch over him.”

“You’re…a strange guy,” Jeremy decided. “Most people would, you know, not decide to follow the people that burned down their business twice?”

“He’s a good person,” Jack said, and there was something indescribably fond in his expression. Then, his face twisted into something a bit darker. “Just a bit… misguided, sometimes. He made some mistakes, hurt some people. As for being here, well, maybe it’s not what I expected, but I haven’t regretted it much, yet,” Jack added, and smiled brilliantly.

Jeremy wished he could have that same sort of outlook on life. So far, he regretted everything. It was kind of hard not to when you made so many mistakes, he supposed. He scooted a little closer to Jack, as if he could absorb some of the other man’s carefree aura into himself.

“Well, you could always rebuild that place again,” Jeremy suggested. “Except maybe out of stone, this time. And also out of reach of any fire-happy demons, preferably. Maybe in that strange world, among the stars.”

Instead of looking encouraged, Jack’s expression seemed to crumble, becoming dark and inscrutable. “I hope so. I guess that’s all someone like I can do, at this point: hope.”

It was a strangely depressing thing to say, and Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. Maybe the man wasn’t as much as an optimist as Jeremy guessed, then. Thankfully, Jack shook himself, and fixed his face with another happy expression. “Then, I’ll also hope that you will come visit my fire-proof store, then, after you are freed from all of your obligations.” He gave Jeremy a significant look, one that Jeremy couldn’t quite parse the meaning of.

“Sure,” Jeremy said. “I’d let you handle my wood any day.”

A silence stretched between them, and Jack gaped at him, his face red. Jeremy realized the accidental double meaning behind his words, and idly wondered if he could find that pyromaniac and ask him to set his entire life on fire. Then, Jack began to laugh uproariously, nearly falling over as he shook. It was infectious laughter, and Jeremy found himself joining in, against his will.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had laughed like this, he realized. Part of him kind of wished the night would last forever. As he stood there with Jack, he felt some sort of determination crystallize inside of him. If the Mad King really was the cause of all of this, if he had truly hurt his friends, then Jeremy would do everything in his power to bring him down. So that one day, he could once again laugh with his friends, just as he was now.

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy felt rather light the next morning, a half-smile lighting his face as he dreamily spooned lumpy porridge into his mouth. He was even humming a bit to himself, which was probably a bit creepy. There was something about Jack, he mused. Something that made the man a bit special. It was strange, because at first glance he looked like the kind of normal person you would sit next to at a tavern and not think twice about. But there was something about his aura that was kind of healing, even if it was easy to miss. He found himself wondering when he would see the librarian again.

 Another bite of breakfast was halfway to his mouth when the door of the barracks was suddenly slammed open. A thin man pushed his way inside, nearly tripping over a warrior doing sit-ups in his haste. His pale, watery eyes immediately zeroed in on Jeremy.

“Are you Ser Jeremy?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“Yes?” Jeremy said, dread building in his stomach.

The man nearly collapsed in relief. “King Gavin wishes to see you immediately, Ser,” he said.

Well, it wasn’t as if Jeremy was expecting everything to work out, anyway.

“Do I have t-” he began, but was cut off as the messenger rushed forward and grabbed hold of his arm with surprising strength, and started to yank him towards the door.

“No time, no time!” the man cried. “He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Jeremy threw back a frantic look for help, but only got amused and baffled looks in return. Adam, on the other hand, just crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed in cold suspicion. Jeremy gulped, and was pulled outside.

“I can walk by myself,” Jeremy said as the two of them stumbled along outside at a brisk pace. The man ignored him, mumbling incoherently to himself, and Jeremy sighed. Well, he could probably guess what the king wanted from him. Jeremy would say something like ‘it was nice while it lasted’, but literally nothing had been nice about this trip, whatsoever. Though, perhaps it was just a little bit funny how Jeremy hadn’t actually ended up doing any spying. At least he would die as he was: useless.

The messenger yanked him into the castle and down into the west wings, around where Jeremy had stayed in Michael’s bed that one time. He looked longingly at Michael’s door, but the man pulled him past it, and towards the end of the hall. Then, he opened the last door in the corridor and unceremoniously shoved Jeremy inside, shutting them in.

Jeremy was immediately hit by the strong, heady scent of perfume, almost making him sneeze. The room was covered with long, sheer strips of curtain, dyed in deep reds and purples, and filtering in thick, colored light. Plush pillows and carpets were strewn about the floor, and beautiful people sat upon them, passing around hookah hoses and exhaling curling smoke from laughing lips. Bards twirled around and played jaunty tunes on thin flutes, while others danced lazily to the music, limbs heavy in the hazy atmosphere. In the middle of it all was King Gavin, reclining on a gaudy sofa, his eyes glazed over in boredom. As the door slammed behind Jeremy, he looked up, and his face lit up in excitement.

“You made it!” he said, leaning forward. “You definitely took your time.”

The messenger let out a squeak, and hid behind Jeremy’s much shorter form.

Gavin clapped his hands together sharply, silencing the room. “Everyone, leave. I have things to discuss with this man,” he announced in an authoritative tone. The room immediately emptied, the crowd nearly tripping over themselves on their way out, leaving Jeremy alone with the king.

“Come here,” Gavin said coaxingly, patting the cushion next to him on the couch. Jeremy swallowed, the smell of smoke and perfume making him a bit dizzy, and crept closer to the man. He took a seat stiffly on the couch, as far away from the king as he was able.

Jeremy felt the king’s gaze on him, but pointedly avoided his eyes. “Did you need something?” he asked, threading his sweaty hands together.

“I have a proposition to make,” Gavin said.

“Okay…” Jeremy said nervously. Oh gods, was he going to have to bargain for his friends lives? He steeled himself, face scrunched up in waiting.

“I want you to take me to the festival today,” Gavin announced excitedly.

Jeremy couldn’t himself as his eyes snapped up to meet the king’s in shock. They glittered jovially as he awaited Jeremy’s response. “W-what?” Jeremy sputtered.

“I’ve always wanted to go to a festival, but as a king I’m not really allowed to really participate in anything, because I might get assassinated and all that,” Gavin said, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “So, I thought I’d go in disguise like last time. And who better to show me around than my partner-in-crime?”

“You want me to-? But I don’t even know my way around the city,” Jeremy protested weakly.

“It’d be a bit amazing if you managed to get us lost,” Gavin laughed. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! What do you say?”

Did he even have a say in this? He scanned the room quickly, as if he would find Trevor or Mica hiding amongst the cushions, then let out a sigh. “Alright,” he said.

Jeremy gave Gavin a searching look, and the king shifted nervously in return. “What?” Gavin asked.

“Well, isn’t this around the time that you threaten me?” Jeremy said.

“What are you on about?” Gavin asked, the confusion clear on his face.

“Usually when you tell me to do something, you threaten me afterwards. You’ve done it the past two times,” Jeremy explained.

“Oh, I guess you’re right,” Gavin realized. He tapped his chin a bit, then fixed his face with a scary expression. “Take me to the festival or I’ll toss your guts out,” he said in an exaggerated deep voice.

“That’s more like it.” Jeremy gave an approving nod. “Guess I have no choice, then.”

“See you tonight,” Gavin said. His eyes glinted mischievously, and Jeremy tried not to feel as if he had signed a deal with the devil.

 

* * *

 

 

“What would you do if you were in my position?” Jeremy asked, plucking a piece of dead grass.

Buttercup gave a small whine, and nosed at his hand, promptly inhaling a small, spiky weed flower he had been holding. Jeremy had been trying to make another flower crown for the warg, but most of the flowers were withered, and he couldn’t quite figure out how to keep them intertwined with each other.

“Hmm, I see,” Jeremy said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “You make a very valid point.” He turned to his notebook, which was lying open next to him, and wrote ‘eat flowers’ inside of it in large letters. “I’m sure that will solve all of my problems. How could I have not thought about it before?” He scratched the warg’s ear and it happily slobbered all over him, his tail thumping loudly on the ground.

Since the festival wasn’t due to begin for a few hours, Gavin had excused him to do what he wished. Jeremy already had the day off from the guard as well, so he decided he would try and relax as much as he was able, and found himself an abandoned wheat field in the corner of the castle. The air was chilly, and the wheat tickled his exposed skin, but it was probably the most peaceful area he would be able to find. Also, reclining in the fields made him feel a sense of bittersweet nostalgia, and he often found himself scanning the nearby hills, as if he would find Trevor peeking his way through the yellow grass, a lopsided, unapologetic grin on his face.

He let out a heavy sigh, and tried to ignore the heat gathering in his eyes. Buttercup made a curious sound, and crept closer to him. “It’s fine,” Jeremy said, though he wasn’t really speaking to the beast. “It’ll all be fine.”

Just then, Buttercup stood at attention, his ears pricked up and his tail straight. Jeremy followed his gaze to see a familiar figure standing at the crest of the hill, looking down at him. It was the unmistakable form of King Michael. Jeremy blanched as the king glared at him.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what’s going on with Michael, would you?” Jeremy whispered to Buttercup. The warg gave him a pointed look, as if he was exasperated with him, and Jeremy clutched at his heart, letting out a small, offended gasp. “Fine, then. Be that way,” Jeremy said, and Buttercup let out a huff before sprinting off deeper into the fields.

“Hey, you!”

Jeremy looked up in time to see Michael stampeding towards him, trampling a trail of wheat in his path. Jeremy flinched and scrambled back a few steps on his hands and knees before the king reached him, standing on top of him with his legs on either side of his torso. Jeremy blinked up, terrified. He had not expected Michael would try and approach him after staunchly avoiding him the past week.  “H-hello,” he squeaked. Michael’s sword glinted evilly in the early morning light.

Michael pointed a finger at Jeremy, his eyes burning in rage. “I’m going to talk to you, and you’re going to fucking listen, alright?”

“Of course?” Jeremy held up his trembling hands in defeat.

Then, Michael let out a groan, pulling a hand through his hair. “No, fuck. I didn’t mean it like that. I need to tell you something.” Jeremy just gave a tense nod. Michael stepped away from him and hunched over a bit, scratching at his cheek in a sheepish way. “It’s about the Armilla, or whatever. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I kinda sprung the thing on you, and it was a pretty big decision to make in such a small time. And, I don’t know, you probably regret it now, so… I’m fucking sorry.”

Was that what this was all about? Jeremy bit back his relieved laugh. All this time, he had thought it had been the other way around. It was a bit ridiculous. “You’re alive, aren’t you? So how could I regret it?” Jeremy asked, grinning brightly.

Michael turned away, and Jeremy couldn’t quite see his expression through the glint of the sun. “Stop doing that,” he mumbled.

“Doing…what?” Jeremy asked, baffled.

“You know, _that_.” Michael made a vague motion with his hand, and Jeremy did not know. “Anyway, I have something for you, then,” the king continued with a small cough. He reached into his satchel at his side and pulled out a thick, copper band, and pressed it roughly into Jeremy’s hand.

“Is this…an armband?” Jeremy asked, turning it over in the light. The two ends of it were spiraling bears with open jaws.

“Wow, we’ve got a real fucking genius over here,” Michael said dryly. “Yeah, it is. I’ve got one too. Don’t give me that look; I didn’t make the rules.”

Jeremy gaped at Michael’s matching armband, clipped over his right bicep. Gods, it really was like they were married. He flushed a bit as he snapped on his own arm- his left bicep, opposite from his tattoo. It glinted like a shackle. 

There was something pleased in Michael’s small smile. “Also, now that we’re…you know, I was thinking you should move into the castle. I mean, not in my bed or anything, gods, what are you even thinking-”

“I didn’t-”

“-But like in the same room, at least. Since our lives are now tied, or whatever, it means that if you get hurt, I do too, and vice versa. So, it’s better to be closer together, anyway.”

Jeremy’s head spun as he tried to decide if this was good thing, or bad thing. Good- because he would be closer to Michael, there would be more opportunities for spying. Also, it might make the Mad King a little less likely to slit Jeremy’s throat in his sleep, perhaps. Bad- because of literally everything else in this scenario. He still wasn’t entirely sure of what being an Armilla entailed, but if it meant that he was in some sort of unbreakable, everlasting bond, then he was really in quite a bit of trouble. Jeremy hoped that Matt would finish his research quickly.

“Sure, sounds good to me,” Jeremy said, voice a few pitches higher than normal. Michael nodded, satisfied, and flopped down in the grass next to him. Jeremy cleared his throat. “But, um…about those monsters in the woods-”

“They’re dead now. Don’t worry about it,” Michael said, cutting him off abruptly. Jeremy wondered if Michael knew that they were from the nether. Still, letting Michael know that Jeremy was aware of the danger in the situation would probably not be the smartest idea. People didn’t usually know what sort of creatures were in the nether, so saying that aloud would only lead to more questions and suspicions.

 Michael let out an exaggerated, aggressive yawn, and stretched out his arms with a small popping sound. With horror, Jeremy noted that his canine teeth were slightly more pointed than what was average. “I’m pretty tired,” Michael said, giving Jeremy a pointed look.

“Good for you?” Jeremy said, quizzically.

“I said, I’m fucking tired,” Michael reiterated, louder this time. “Do I have to spell it out for you? Lend me your lap.”

“ _My lap_?”

“What, do you think I want to suck your dick?” Michael said, exasperated. “What the fuck do you think I want, you dumbass?”

“I didn’t… _what_?” Jeremy sincerely didn’t have the slightest idea what was going on. He was kind of convinced he was hallucinating.

His thoughts were cut off as Michael suddenly flopped his head down into Jeremy’s lap. Jeremy immediately turned to stone, frozen in utter shock. Michael’s eyes closed, his brow still twitching in irritation. “Are you ever not confused? Just shut up. Pillows don’t talk.”

No, Jeremy was sure he would always be confused. He had already resigned himself to a life of eternal bafflement. But having the Feral King trying to sleep on his thighs? Yeah, that was some sort of new level of bullshit. It was like having a tiger fall asleep on you, and Jeremy was terrified to move a muscle, lest he be bitten. Was using someone’s lap like this normal in Michael’s kingdom? Maybe the king used all of the warriors as pillows, and Jeremy was the one making a big deal out of nothing. Or perhaps it was the special duty of an armilla, or something. Was lying like that even comfortable? Jeremy didn’t know how the king expected to fall asleep. Would he be punished if he didn’t fall asleep? Jeremy bit his lip nervously.

The wind’s bite was chilling as it buffeted around them, but Michael was like a personal heater, radiating warmth, so Jeremy didn’t mind much. Buttercup hopped around excitedly in the distance, and the dancing wheat tickled his arms. Despite everything, Jeremy found himself relaxing, his muscles untensing from their locked positions. As the minutes passed by peacefully, the king’s breathing started to even out, the tension smoothing out from his face. Was he actually asleep? How could someone fall asleep that fast? Perhaps he really was half-beast, then.

Jeremy snuck a peek down at the man, and Michael made no response to being looked at. Feeling a little braver, Jeremy let himself stare down at the king. He looked a lot younger like this, and a lot more peaceful as well. Jeremy had never noticed before, as his face was usually covered with face paint, but there were freckles dusting his nose. It was kind of adorable, Jeremy realized, and he tilted his head curiously. Then, he remembered the Mad King’s tender gesture towards Michael, and felt himself flushing and looking away. He should probably stop being so creepy, anyway.

After a short time of relaxing, there was a small, pained noise, and Jeremy looked down again to see that the tension had returned to Michael’s face, his brows creased together painfully, and his eyes flitting around agitatedly underneath his closed eyelids. Was the king having a nightmare? Jeremy looked around frantically, his arms held up in panic. Should he wake him up? Or would that make him more upset? Michael made another pained noise, more desperate than the first one. Jeremy groaned, and his fingers twitched. When he had first started working under Lindsay, he had nightmares pretty often. She had always done the same thing to help him sleep. Maybe he could do the same thing as well? Jeremy scrunched his eyes closed, reached up a hand, threaded it carefully through Michael’s locks, and began to stroke his hair.

Jeremy’s cheeks flamed as the seconds ticked by in silence. Was he really doing this? Was it even helping? He cracked open an eye. Michael’s face had evened out again, and his breathing was peaceful. Jeremy sighed in relief. It had actually worked. _So, I should probably stop, then, shouldn’t I?_ Jeremy thought. But somehow, he didn’t. Michael’s hair was really soft, softer than he would’ve believed. It was kind of like petting a cat, in a way. _Imagine if Adam saw this,_ Jeremy thought bitterly _. He’d probably never stop laughing_. Even though his legs were falling asleep, and there was a crick in his back, Jeremy felt himself smile softly.

After a few more minutes of indulgence, Jeremy begrudgingly pulled his traitorous hand away. Immediately, Michael’s eyes snapped open, landing on his accusingly. “Why are you stopping?” he asked crossly.

Jeremy let out a sharp yelp and scrambled up, dumping the irritated king unceremoniously out of his lap. “Oh gods, I am so sorry,” he wheezed, wheeling backwards a few more steps. “I didn’t know you were awake.” Jeremy had been caught red-handed. He was definitely dead. Michael was going to blow his head off, then reattach it so the Mad King could chop it off as well.

Michael sat up, picking bits of wheat off his clothing. “What are you talking about? Calm down already.” He let out a small yawn and stretched languidly. “I feel a little better, though.”

“You aren’t…upset?”

“That you dumped me on my ass? Maybe,” Michael said. He propped his head up on his hand and gave Jeremy an amused look. “When are you going to get used to me, already? I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

Jeremy’s mouth opened and closed like a fish as he took those words in. That sick, nauseous feeling of guilt crept its way back into his stomach. “Okay,” he said quietly, and helped Michael back onto his feet.

 

* * *

 

 

Before Jeremy knew it, dusk had already crept its way across the city, dusting the streets in muted purples and reds. In the distance, the warm lights of the festival called crowds of people forward.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

King Gavin resembled something like an overexcited puppy as he bounded forward down the city streets towards the festival. Jeremy trailed behind him, visibly dragging his feet and vaguely wishing he had some sort of leash.

“Ooh!” Gavin spun back towards him, his eyes glittering in the dying sunlight. His idea of a disguise had been a peasant’s hat and clothes and a pair of thick glasses, but, despite its simplicity, it really did hide his identity well. “I have an idea! Let’s give each other secret names! You can be Ainsley Scrote.”

“Why do _I_ need a secret name?” Jeremy asked. “Also, what the fuck kind of name is that?”

“What? Not into roleplay?” Gavin winked. 

“With a name like that? Hell yeah I am,” Jeremy said. “How about you be Herbert Ballsac, then?” He cleared his throat dramatically, and adopted an accent similar to Gavin’s. “Good day, Sir Ballsac, who is certainly not a king. Would you like to make your way to the festival?”

Gavin pouted, crossing his thin arms together. “I don’t like this game anymore,” he whined.

Jeremy snorted at the petulant look on his face. That look quickly faded into something like awe as they made their way into the market district, where the festival was being held. The area looked almost nothing like what Jeremy had seen the first time he was here. The district had been thoroughly cleaned, and was decorated with colorful streamers that stretched from rooftops and hung from windows. Doused with the first fingers of darkness, the cobblestone streets were strung up with lit paper lanterns, of all colors and sizes. Some were floating around lazily, seemingly with a mind of their own, bumping distractedly into people that were in the crowds thronging in the streets. The air was fragrant with the scent of roasting meats and baking goods, causing his mouth to water. A band played joyful tunes in the corner, and groups of children spun together, hair tousled and faces red.

Gavin let out a squeal of excitement and bolted towards the stands, which were boasting even more exotic goods than before. There were shelves of jars, each containing their own miniature, thriving world, and rows of gaudy, golden jewelry that hung from racks. Rickety cages rocked with small, restless creatures, their eyes gleaming with fury. Jeremy flinched backwards as a green drake snapped at his fingers. Gavin was cooing softly at some sort of miniature creature, a floating ball of pink fluff and beady eyes.

“Oh gods, I’m in love,” he fussed. “Let’s adopt it. We can call it Fipply Wumbler.”

“We’re not adopting anything,” Jeremy said. “Also, what is up with your names, honestly?”

Jeremy watched as the king got distracted by an apple bobbing competition, his mouth opened in disgust as one of the participants spat a bitten apple towards his feet. It was strange, but Jeremy felt that out of all the other kings, Gavin was the one he felt most comfortable around, even if he was technically the one that threatened him the most. The reason was probably Jeremy was kind of split on what to feel towards Gavin. Between the pathetic and clumsy Gavin, and the dark, threatening Gavin, he wondered which was the façade, and which was the true him.

As the crowd cheered the participants on, Jeremy felt his gaze wandering towards one of the nearby, abandoned alleyways. Down the alley was a strange, pulsing purple light, and Jeremy found himself almost hypnotized by it. An odd sense of déjà vu washed over him, and he stumbled forward a few steps against his will. Suddenly, wide hands grasped his shoulders and yanked him backwards into a warm chest.

“You aren’t trying to run away from, are you?” Gavin asked, his eyes glinting.

“Of course not,” Jeremy said. “I was just-” He turned back towards the alley, but that purple light was gone. Had he imagined it?

“Well, good because they’ve just started an arm wrestling tournament and I’ve already signed you up,” Gavin admitted cheerily, and began to tug him away.

Jeremy sighed. It was going to be a long night.

The arm wrestling tournament went about as well as he guessed it would. It turned out that half of Michael’s guard had decided to also participate. Jeremy was literally knocked out in the first round as he was shoved entirely through the wooden table. He woke several seconds later to find Gavin shaking in laughter above him. He was then forced to participate in a cards tournament, in which he lost quite spectacularly to a seven-year-old child. Gavin was nearly rolling on the floor in laughter. Jeremy was then forcefully led to the bonfire, which was nearly as big as a shed. It roared in its intensity and sent out burning orange sparks, as people danced around it in a wild, hectic way.

“Dance with me?” Gavin asked, hopping up and down on the balls of his feet in excitement.

“What? Um, I’m good, thanks,” Jeremy said, shaking his hands in front of him anxiously. He wasn’t much of a dancer.

Gavin pouted, but thankfully went off to join the dance. Jeremy sighed in relief and moved to lean up against a lamppost, his arms crossed against his chest as he watched. The surrounding music took on a feverish tone, and the dance increased in intensity, and Gavin’s dance increased in turn. Jeremy’s eyes went wide. There was something…off about the way Gavin moved. He couldn’t quite place it, but his dance was almost inhuman in quality. It was as in equal parts hypnotizing as it was unnerving. And somehow, it drew everyone’s eyes to him, people stopping what they were doing and taking a few step closer, their mouths agape. _So much for blending in,_ Jeremy thought nervously.

The song ended and Gavin made his way back to Jeremy, his face ruddy and teeth bared in a grin. “What do you think?”

“It was pretty amazing,” Jeremy admitted.

Something in Gavin’s expression softened, and he took a step closer to Jeremy, putting a hand on his shoulder. _Here’s another person with no sense of personal space,_ Jeremy thought nervously, wondering how rude it would be to take a step back. “I’ve never been able to go to something like this before,” Gavin said. “Thank you for humoring me today, yeah?”

Jeremy frowned thoughtfully. “Are there no festivals like this in your kingdom?”

“Like this?” Gavin tipped his head back and let out a loud laugh. “No, no. Usually our festivals are more focused on the whole sacrificial part. That place was a swampy, boring shithole. I’m glad to be away.”

 _What an irresponsible, un-kingly thing to say,_ Jeremy thought, sweating. Though, he couldn’t really blame Gavin for thinking that way. From the little that he heard, Gavin’s homeland was a rather nasty place- filled with maze-like bogs and old forests teeming with monsters. Superstitions and witchcraft ruled supreme, and magic covered the land like a haze. “Do you-”

“Huh. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

Jeremy and Gavin spun to see Michael, dressed casually and spectacles balanced precariously on his nose, his arms filled with treats and pastries. His hooded eyes flicked lazily back and forth between the two of them. “Isn’t this interesting?” he said, and took a tearing bite out of a piece of licorice. It made an audible snapping noise in the clearing.

Gavin let out a sound akin to a strangled honk and clutched at Jeremy’s arm. “W-what are you talking about? I think you have us mistaken for someone else.”

“Do you think I’m a fucking idiot, Gavin?” Michael pushed the rest of the licorice in his mouth.

“Gavin?” Gavin said, his voice a bit hysterical in pitch. “I don’t know any Gavins. My name is Ainsley Scrote, you silly lump.”

Jeremy’s brow furrowed. “I thought I was Ainsley Scrote?” he asked, baffled. Gavin turned to give him a horrified look, and he straightened in realization. “I mean, that’s both of our names. We’re twins. With the same name. That also look nothing alike.” He and Gavin threw their arms around each other and looked at Michael with identical, expectant smiles.

Michael blinked, slowly. “Oh, I see how it is. Turns out I was the idiot the entire time. What a twist,” he said dryly. Then, he reached forward and grabbed Gavin’s nose and Jeremy’s sleeve and began to yank them forward. Gavin let an indignant squawk as he was pulled along, and Jeremy jogged so he wouldn’t be dragged. Michael shoved Gavin down an alley and fixed him with a glare. “Explain.”

Gavin looked around desperately, as if searching for escape routes. “How did you even find us?” he asked, whirling on Michael indignantly.

“It’s not like I was stalking you,” Michael spat back. “I was just walking by and happened to see you dancing like an idiot.”

“Kings shouldn’t even be at the festival!” Gavin protested, arms whipping around wildly.

“Then what the fuck are you? A radish?” Michael pulled off Gavin’s thick glasses and flicked his forehead.

“I just wanted to have fun for once in my life! I’m sick of being holed up in that stuffy castle,” Gavin hissed, stomping his foot petulantly and snatching back his glasses.

“We’ve literally only been there for a couple weeks. Also, stop avoiding the damn question. How do you know Jeremy?”

“He’s just a friend I happened to make. What’s the big deal?”

Michael’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Friend? That’s bullshit. You’re obviously using him to get to me.”

Gavin’s face turned an interesting shade of red. “ _What?_ How could you even-” He took a step closer to Michael and pointed a finger at his chest. “Not everything is about you, you conceited, self-centered bastard.”

“Of course it’s about me. He’s _my_ warrior.” Michael reached back and yanked Jeremy forward to emphasize his point. “Also that sentence is rich, coming from you.”

“I’ve know him way longer than you have! Is it that strange that I could make a friend with no ulterior motives? I like Jeremy!”

“Unless you were there for his fucking birth I really don’t understand the point you’re trying to make,” Michael all but spat. “And, yeah, it is strange. You’ve never done a singular thing in your entire life that hasn’t benefitted you in some way.”

“Um, I think I’m just going to go somewhere else,” Jeremy cut in awkwardly, shuffling away.

“Oh no you don’t,” the two kings barked in unison, yanking him back towards them.

Jeremy let out a small, resigned sigh as the arguing resumed. Michael and Gavin were getting closer and closer to each other, and he wasn’t sure if they were going to start making out or were going to tear each other’s heads off. He didn’t particularly care either way, as long as they got it over with so he could go get some food. His mind began to wander, their angry voices fading into background noises as he thought about all the various foods and alcohol he could have been indulging in if he hadn’t gotten wrapped up in this mess. There had been a rather tempting cabbage and beef stew that was native to Michael’s land on display that Jeremy had been looking forward to trying. Also, there was a blood pudding he had been curious about. His mouth began to water. After a few minutes of fantasies, a loud shout ripped him away from his daydreams.

“But why is called a turkey leg then?” Gavin said. “Birds can’t have legs. That’s just weird.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Michael screamed, his face almost purple in rage. “If you walk on it, it’s a leg!”

“I could walk with a stick, but you wouldn’t call it a leg,” Gavin pointed out, and Michael nearly fell over in indignation.

How did the conversation even get to that? Jeremy didn’t think he would ever understand these people, even if he was alive for a thousand years.

A sudden reverberating explosion pierced the air, silencing the kings, and almost sending Jeremy to the ground in shock. “What the hell is that?” he asked.

The anger instantly melted away from Gavin’s face, replaced with bubbling excitement. “It’s time!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “I know the perfect place to watch.”

“Time for what?” Jeremy asked, but Gavin ignored him and began to scramble away back into the square.

“This isn’t over,” Michael mumbled to himself, and began to follow after him.

“Well, uh, have fun together,” Jeremy said, and began to awkwardly sidle away.

“I don’t think so,” Michael said, and reached back to pull at Jeremy’s arm to tug him along as well.

Jeremy reluctantly followed both of them back into the chaos of the festival. People were rushing forward, mouths open in excitement. Gavin was heading in the other direction, against the crowd. Michael picked up his pace to catch up.

“Where are we going?” Jeremy asked, breathing a little heavily.

“Up there!” Gavin said, and pointed up at the bell tower, the highest point in the city, second to the castle. Jeremy gulped. His hands were already sweating.

They made their way into the tower, easily bypassing the snoozing guard, tankard in hand. The inside of the tower was chilly and wind whistled down it. The staircase spiraled up into darkness, and Jeremy felt his head spin as he looked up. Gavin was already halfway up, skipping up two stairs at a time. “Hurry up!” he laughed, his voice echoing noisily in the tower.

Michael sighed and started up as well, looking back to make sure Jeremy was still following. Another strange explosion sounded from outside. By the time they made their way to the top of the tower, Jeremy was out breath and sweating. Gavin was tapping his foot impatiently. “Over here,” he said, motioning them around the giant bell. He perched himself on the ledge of the large, open widow, his feet dangling over the edge.  Jeremy swayed a bit.

“Well, this is nice. I’m going to go now,” Jeremy said, and turned around.

“Oh, c’mon,” Michael said crossly. He yanked Jeremy towards the window and plopped him down next to Gavin. Jeremy felt the warm press of Michael as he sat on the other side of him, trapping him in. Jeremy swallowed dryly. Sitting in between these two was probably the worst position one could be in. Even so, it was still slightly better than falling to his death, so he settled in more.

The opening led out to a clear view of almost the entire city, sprawling out like a painting. He could see snow-capped mountains in the distance, and the thick cluster of trees that made up the Witchwood. He looked out sadly at the large expanse of the ocean. Lindsay was on the other side of that somewhere, along with his home. He remembered that town: the broken-down cathedral with far too many holes, his small house that was always a bit too warm, and the sprawling green fields that were dotted with flowers. He missed it. A place like Achievement City was beautiful, but he didn’t think he would ever be able to call it home.

A sudden burst of white light filled the sky, unfurling like a flaming flower, sending shimmering sparks everywhere. Jeremy nearly fell backwards with shock, and Michael reached out a hand to steady him. “What the-?” he exclaimed.

“It’s a firework!” Gavin explained, his face glowing in the brightness of it. “Ryan brought them over. Aren’t they pretty?”

While the first firework faded, another shot up, exploding into a burst of blue this time. A third quickly followed, this one red in color. “Yeah,” Jeremy breathed, too stunned to say anything else. He had never seen anything so bright and beautiful in his entire life. Even when he blinked, the impression of the firework would stay underneath his eyelids, as if it were painted there. Four fireworks were shot up simultaneously next: one red, one blue, one green, and one purple. To represent the four kingdoms, Jeremy realized in amazement, and he couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that burst out of him. Gavin answered with a laugh of his own, and Jeremy turned to realize that both of the kings were watching him, rather than the show, with equal expressions of amusement. He flushed, and snapped his mouth closed, wondering if he seemed like a child.

They continued to watch the fireworks for a bit, and Jeremy felt the mood shift. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t notice the glances Michael and Gavin kept exchanging over him. If there was thing he knew, it was when he wasn’t wanted. _Time to make my graceful exit,_ he thought.

“Well, if I’m going to stay here any longer, I’m going to puke all over myself and die, so I should go,” Jeremy said gracefully.

Thankfully, Michael gave a horrified expression. “Shit, fine then. You could’ve said something earlier.”

Gavin threw him a soft smile, his face illuminated red. “Thanks for escorting me today, dear Jeremy,” he said.

“Wasn’t it more like babysitting?” Michael snorted. “Anyway, don’t forget to check in with Adam. He’ll show you to our room.”

“ _Our room?_ ” Gavin sputtered, and Jeremy ducked down the staircase before their arguing could start up again.

He was nearly at the bottom of the tower when a thought occurred to him. Wasn’t this the perfect time to do some spying? Like, the thing he was supposed to be doing in the first place? Michael and Gavin were alone now, and there was a chance they’d discuss something important. But wouldn’t that be strange? Jeremy wouldn’t want to intrude on a private moment, or anything like that. He hesitated, then shook himself. Trevor and Mica were in grave danger. He didn’t have the time to worry about such silly stuff such as privacy. Michael and Gavin weren’t his friends; they were his targets. He ignored his sore, protesting legs, and made his way back up the staircase.

At the top of the tower again, he muffled his steps and crouched down low, looking towards the two kings. They were huddled close together, now, Gavin’s head on Michael’s shoulder. Jeremy’s heart was pounding, and he resisted the urge to fling himself back down the stairs. He could do this.

“-just can’t believe he would use you like that,” Gavin was saying, voice barely audible among the pop of the fireworks.

“I fucking can,” Michael groused. His voice was much louder, thankfully. “He always did care more about those dumb experiments more than he did us.”

Gavin’s head lifted so he could turn to look at Michael. “That’s not-” He let out a sigh, and his head lowered. “Well, maybe. What he is working on is pretty important, though, innit?”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess so,” Michael grumbled.

They were silent a few minutes before Gavin spoke up again. “If…if he fails,” he said.

“Oh, don’t even start,” Michael said dismissively.

“If he fails,” Gavin said again, more confidently this time. “We won’t have any more moments like this again, will we?”

They were silent again, and Michael seemed to hunch in on himself. “I don’t suppose we will,” he said quietly, and pressed their heads together. The final firework shot off, encompassing the entire sky with white, until it slowly faded into dark smudges of smoke against the starless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that I have the subtly of a hammer  
> This chapter was very ladsy, but next chapter will be very gentsy to make up for that. Also, it's the ball chapter, which I am ridiculously excited for lol. I love me a good ball, especially when there's tons of silly romantic drama surrounding it ;)  
> I also put a bit about Gavin's kingdom in this chapter, which is kinda based on early slavic culture. I like to think his country kinda looks like velen from the witcher series lmao.  
> Thank you for reading!!!


	8. Trusting Hands

  _“It’ll all be fine,” Mica laughed, holding her heart, where a gleaming sword was sticking through._

_“You won’t fail,” Trevor grinned, his mouth dripping black poison._

_“You can figure this out,” Matt said. His eyes were missing, and he blinked over the empty sockets._

_“I believe in you,” Lindsay smiled. Her right arm was entirely gone._

_Hundreds of villagers from his home approached from the shadows, and they all converged on him as well, unnatural smiles stretching across their faces. Some of them had entire chunks of flesh, as if they had been bitten off, and others had cracked and blackened skin from flames. They surrounded Jeremy in all sides, pulling at his clothes and skin while chanting platitudes. Then, they pushed him to the ground, and crushed him under their suffocating weight._

_“You’ll save us,” they all said, and Jeremy couldn’t even scream._

 

* * *

 

Jeremy jolted awake, his heart thundering. A beautiful woman stood over him, blinking in shock, and she retracted her hand from his shoulder.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” she said, pushing her dark brown hair over her shoulder. “You seemed to be having a nightmare, so I woke you.” She didn’t seem particularly sorry, though, and there was something calculating in her gaze.

Jeremy floundered for a bit, trying to get a hold on his surroundings. Instead of hard muscle, he felt clean, comfortable sheets. Instead of hearing screaming and the breaking of furniture, he heard the soft rustle of the curtains and the gentle chirping of birds. Instead of smelling sweat and rancid meat he smelled the soft scent of laundry and flowers.

Right. He had gotten a promotion.

Thankfully, when Michael had said they’d be staying in the same room, he meant that in a liberal way. It was more like they were sharing a suite, with Michael just a door away. That also meant that for the first time in a long time, Jeremy got a room all to himself. He was currently lying in a comfortable four-poster bed, like the one he had stayed in while he was injured. Sunlight was already pouring in from the large, open window, and a chilled breezed whistled around the heavy curtains. The woman was standing to the side of the bed, holding a full, silver tray. She gave him a small smile, and set down the tray. She was a maid, he realized belatedly.

Jeremy felt tears gather in his eyes as he looked down at the silver tray sitting next to him. It was filled to the brim with food: fluffy poached eggs and seared fish and sausages and piles of golden pastries. There even was a bowl of colorful, ripe fruit, and a tankard of beer. “Is this…for me?” he got out, choked up.

The maid raised a delicate eyebrow, concerned. “Yes? Are you…crying?”

“No,” Jeremy said, crying. He put one of the pastries in his mouth. It was perfectly flaky, almost dissolving in his mouth. The maid tilted her head, confused, and Jeremy quickly swallowed, embarrassed. He pushed the tray back towards her. “I’m sorry. Did you want any?”

The maid blinked. “Do I…?” Then, she laughed, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. “It doesn’t work like that,” she explained, still giggling.

Jeremy frowned. “Oh. You aren’t hungry?” He picked up one of the sausages and waved it around for emphasis.

“That’s not what I meant,” the maid said, dusting off her apron as she stepped back. “But anyway, I have a message for you. King Michael wishes to see you in the baths.”

“In th’ baths?” Jeremy said, mouth full of food. “Wha’ for?”

“Well, I think I could guess, but I’d rather not say aloud,” the maid said, quirking a sly smile.

Jeremy immediately choked on the sausage he had been shoving into his mouth. “It’s not like that,” he said, coughing. “ _We’re_ not like that.”

The maid looked out of the corner of her eye at the door that led to Michael’s side of the room. “If you say so,” she said.

Jeremy pushed the tray away from him, suddenly losing his appetite. If one maid immediately misunderstood the situation, he didn’t even want to think about what everyone else would think, especially Ryan. The maid picked up the tray, bowed, and made her way back across the room.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Jeremy called after her, a little embarrassed over the entire situation.

The maid hesitated at the door, then turned around. “You seem like a nice guy,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “So, I feel as if I should warn you. The inside of this castle is a like a chess game, one of life and death. If you are deemed a useful piece, people will do anything to get you on their side. If you are seen as useless, they will not hesitate to dispose of you. Do you understand?” Her glasses glinted.

“Yep, that’s me: Jeremy, the guy that understands everything,” Jeremy said.

The maid laughed again. “And I am Meg, the maid who knows far too much,” she said. “Take care not to get eaten alive, Jeremy.” She reached into his tray and pulled out a strawberry, popping it into her mouth. Her red lips curved into a wicked smile as she chewed, and she winked before striding out of the room.

Jeremy stared after her, and rubbed his eyes. Yeah, that had actually just happened. He wondered idly if normal people existed in this castle. He shrugged it off and stood up to get dressed, putting on his old clothes, instead of the new, rather fancy outfits that Adam had provided him with last night. After slipping on his boots, he left the room, making his way towards the royal baths.

Jeremy stifled a heavy yawn as he stumbled sleepily through the castle halls. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had gotten a full night’s rest. Even though he was in a comfortable bed again, it did nothing to quell his persistent nightmares. He could never quite remember the content of the dreams either, just that they left a sickly taste in his throat.

Still, it was probably good that he had gotten at least some sleep after the festival last night. He couldn’t help but recall that strange conversation he had heard from between Gavin and Michael, but no matter how many times he ran over the words in his mind, he couldn’t quite make sense of them. He only had two assumptions: one – that there was someone taking advantage of the kings, and they were letting them do so for some greater purpose, and two – that for some reason or another, the kings might be heading towards some sort of ending, assumedly death. Neither of these conjectures were positive, and they were still vague enough that Jeremy didn’t see the point in telling Matt. He wanted to be more sure of things first. He was getting a little tired of guessing.

He made his way to the courtyards, past the extravagant gardens. Even though it was early fall, and the air was a bit chilly, the gardens were still bursting with life: tall fruit trees, perfectly groomed hedges, and beds of colorful flowers. He even passed by a statue of King Geoff that was literally pissing out water. _That’s some interesting taste_ , he thought, a bit disturbed. Finally, he found himself at the arching gate that led to the baths. There was a guard stationed at the entrance, but he only gave Jeremy a small nod as he walked past him.

The large bath was steaming slightly in the chilly air, and a singular figure sat on the edge of the pool, lounging with his eyes closed. Red leaves gently blew across the opening, landing gently in the pink water.

“Good morning,” Jeremy said nervously, approaching the man.

One of Michael’s eyes slit open before closing lazily again. He was almost entirely submerged in the water, with only his head peeking out. “I need someone to wash my hair,” he said.

“Aren’t there other people whose job is to do that?” Jeremy said dryly. It was way too early to deal with privileged kings.

“Yeah, and they conveniently left. You do it,” Michael said, mouth popping open with a yawn.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and pulled over a stool so he could plop down on it. “Fine, fine,” he said, picking up a bottle of some pink liquid he hoped was supposed to be for the hair. He shrugged and lathered up his hands.

“I wanted to talk to you more last night before you left,” Michael said, lips quirking up in contentment as Jeremy began to scrub at his head. “Now that you’re in the castle, things will be a bit different. So, don’t go around telling everyone you’re my armilla or anything like that. People would just love to use you to get to me. If they hurt you, they hurt me, you know?”

Jeremy hadn’t particularly been planning on doing that, anyway. Technically, he had already told Matt and Adam, but he doubted that would cause any problems. But Jeremy hadn’t considered the idea that being an armilla actually put a huge target on his back. Since he and Michael shared energy, that made him an easy way to get Michael hurt, if people used him in that way. And there were a lot of people that probably wanted Michael dead, considering how his kingdom worked. It was a terrifying thought. He was suddenly very aware of why Michael was so insistent on having him closer to him.

Then, a thought occurred to him, and his hands paused in Michael’s hair. “But, what will people think about you and me if they don’t know about the armilla thing?”

“Eh, people are already saying that I brought a lover into the palace,” Michael said offhandedly.

Jeremy wasn’t eating a sausage this time, but he still found a way to choke on his own spit. “Is it really okay for people to be thinking that? What about Gavin?” he said quickly.

“What _about_ Gavin?” Michael asked crossly.

“He’s going to misunderstand things!” Jeremy insisted. Why couldn’t Michael get that already? He was surprisingly thick-headed. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a rift in a relationship because of some silly rumors. He already made a mess of things last night. And, well, Gavin and Michael were surprisingly cute together, in some weird sort of way. He really didn’t want that to be ruined. Irritated, Jeremy used the soap to form two little devil horns in Michael’s hair.

“Misunderstand what?” Michael whirled around to glare at him, but the intimidating effect was lost by the soapy horns on his head. Jeremy let out an involuntary snort, and Michael’s eyes narrowed. “What, you got something to say, you brat?” He pulled Jeremy into a headlock, and yanked the both of them to a standing position. Immediately, Jeremy gasped in horror and snapped his eyes closed, pressing his hands over them.

“Michael, you’re naked,” he hissed, blindly pulling away from his wet grip.

“What, did you think I was wearing a full-length gown underneath the water?” Michael said.

“I don’t know! Please let go of me,” Jeremy whined. Michael let go of him, and Jeremy went stumbling backwards, falling with a hard crash into the nearby brush. He felt branches and leaves entangle around him. “Oh gods, I’m in a bush. I can’t see and I’m in a bush.”

“You can’t see because your eyes are closed, you dumbass,” Michael said.

“I’ll open them when you’re decent,” Jeremy said. He attempted to pull himself out of the bush, but found himself in another bush, somehow. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he felt so embarrassed over the entire situation. After living with the warriors for that short amount of time, he was pretty sure he had seen everything that he could possibly never want to see. But something about Michael being a king made the situation a thousand times more uncomfortable.

“Are you implying that my naked body isn’t decent?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Jeremy said hurriedly. He crawled out of the second bush, and felt cold, wet tile underneath his hands. “Your body is definitely more than decent. A very above decent body. Not that I saw it, or anything.”

He heard Michael laugh softly. “Sure,” he said. “Well, I’ve put a cloth on, now. So your eyes won’t burn out of your fucking skull or anything like that.”

Jeremy peeked through his hands. Michael was indeed wearing a thin cloth wrapped around his waist, though it didn’t particularly leave much to the imagination anyway. Jeremy put his hands down, and stood up again, relieved. He also averted his gaze, resolutely not looking at the way the water slipped down the king’s neck and chest.

“You’re going to see my dick eventually,” Michael said.

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Jeremy groaned, but he couldn’t help the smile that worked its way to his lips.

“It’s more like an invitation,” Michael said, smirking and taking a step closer.

Face flaming, Jeremy gave the approaching king a hard push. He had only been planning on getting Michael away from him, but as Michael stumbled backwards, he slipped on the slick tile. With a loud yelp of indignation, Michael fell back into the water with a deafening splash. He emerged a few seconds later, his wet hair flat against his enraged face.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” his said, aura dark and menacing.

With lighting quick speed, Michael snapped forward and grabbed on Jeremy’s ankles, yanking him backwards into the bath. Jeremy was quickly submerged in the silky water, and he pushed his head back up to the surface.

“Michael!” he cried, spitting up water. “I’m wearing boots!”

Michael was howling with laughter, his face tipped to the sky and a hand slapped over his eyes. “Ah man, you should’ve seen your face!” he roared.

Jeremy stared at the laughing king and sighed, slicking his hair back.  He wasn’t even sure how he was going to survive a single day with this man, let alone weeks. But, as he watched the laughing king, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe they could’ve been friends, in some other life.

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy’s first week inside the castle passed by surprisingly well.

He stuck by Michael for a good chunk of the time, as the king practically took him everywhere he went. They ate together for almost every dinner, dining in the rather extravagant dinner hall near the throne room. Supposedly, the other kings usually joined in as well, but Geoff and Ryan were always busy. Gavin sometimes did show up, but he was mostly quiet, speaking among his own guards, and occasionally throwing hurt puppy dog looks Michael’s way. However, Michael seemed unperturbed, and ignored the other king in favor of happily shoving various foods in Jeremy’s mouth and gauging his reactions. Thankfully, by the third meal, Jeremy had stopped involuntarily crying at the sight of cooked food.

Michael also had Jeremy accompany him to any meetings he had with his politicians. Jeremy tried his hardest to pay attention to the talking, but it always circled around taxes and tithes and other boring topics, and it wasn’t long before he’d find himself nodding off in a corner. Michael was surprisingly competent, though, asking questions and taking notes and making intelligent sounding suggestions. Jeremy didn’t have the slightest idea what he was saying, but it did sound impressive. Still, the meetings were painfully long, and it was hard to ignore the judgmental looks the courtesans threw his way.

Despite everything, however, Jeremy felt as if he and Michael were growing closer. There was something infectious about the carefree way the king lived his life. He ran headfirst into everything he did, and had no qualms about anything either. In a way, spending time with Michael was like he was reliving his teenage years in the impulsive way he never had the luxury to experience. As he watched Michael giggle like a kid as they balanced another pie on a sleeping courtesan’s head, he felt something warm build in his chest.

Whenever Jeremy had a free moment away from Michael, usually when he was meeting up with the other kings, he turned to spying. There was an entire castle full of unexplored rooms, and Jeremy made it his mission to thoroughly inspect each one. He found servants quarters, armories, reception rooms, sitting rooms and waiting rooms, three different kitchens, the pantry, and the buttery, and even a room that contained nothing but a singular, stuffed cow. He checked behind every curtain and barrel, shook out every rug, and unturned every crate, but found nothing but dust and lint. There were, however, around a dozen rooms that were locked. Jeremy had lockpick set from Trevor, though, and he already knew how to use it thanks to his thieving days. So, as nighttime set into the castle halls, turning them ghost-like and abandoned, he quietly set to work.

The first two doors were only bedchambers, and the next three were store rooms. The other rooms were a bust as well, containing nothing of interest besides random odds and ends. That left Jeremy with one room, on the end of the hallway in the west wing. The room was always guarded, as far as he could tell, and was completely ignored by the servants. No one ever went in, and no one left either. Whatever was in that room was obviously something important, and Jeremy knew he needed to find a way in.

 One night, he was able to cause a distraction in order to get the guard away, but he quickly found that the door was actually impossible to pick, and the lock was way too strong. The only way in was with the key, he supposed, disappointed.

The next day, as Jeremy was making his nightly rounds after waking from another nasty nightmare, he found that the mysterious door was unguarded, and cracked open. Jeremy’s eyes widened, and his heart began to pound as he crept closer, keeping himself as low to the ground as possible. He peered inside the crack of the doorway. It was another bedchamber, and it had no people inside, so Jeremy snuck inside and shut the door behind him before he could regret anything.

The room was similar in style to Michael’s: large, four-poster bed, thick carpets, and cherry wood furniture. However, the room was an absolute mess, as someone had ransacked it. Crumpled balls of paper, torn clothing, and shards of glass littered the floor, and a bowl of apples had scattered on the unmade bed, some of the fruit already bitten into. Cupboard drawers were ripped open, their contents flung about. There was a pile of scrolls in the crackling fireplace, and they quickly caught fire and crumpled to ash. Whoever had occupied this room had been here recently.

Jeremy turned to the desk, which had a single untouched scroll, its ends nailed down to the wood so it would stay put. It was a map, he quickly realized, one of the four kingdoms. However, scattered all across the map were large, red x’s, each with a number next to them. On the bottom of the map were the words ‘the end?’ written in sloppy penmanship, with multiple circles around it. _The end of what?_ Jeremy thought. His brow furrowed, and he looked on the map where Lindsay’s kingdom was. Right over Lindsay’s village was another one of those red x’s, and the number three written next to it. Confused, Jeremy studied the map more, and realized that Achievement City also had an x over it, with the number seven written by it. Was it…an order? But an order of what? Where was number one? As Jeremy traced his finger over the map, he heard the sudden, distinct sound of the door handle being jiggled.

His heart jumped to his throat. Fuck. They were back.

He dove for the nearest wardrobe, which was big enough to fit several people, and shut himself inside. He hated enclosed spaces, and the furs of the coats tickled his nose, but it would have to do.

He was just in time. The door slammed open, and Jeremy heard the thunk of boots as someone made their way inside. He put his hand over his mouth, stifling his terrified breathing. Through the small crack in the wardrobe, he watched as the figure made their way over to the desk and pulled the map free, tucking it into their cloak. Then, the figure paused, and slowly turned towards the wardrobe.

Jeremy froze, his heart pounding so loudly that he felt as if he would pass out. His hand tightened around his mouth. The figure took a step closer to him, then another. Jeremy felt his legs start to shake uncontrollably.

“Sire! There you are!”

The figure stopped as a new person peaked their way around the doorway. “King Geoff wishes to see you immediately,” they said, huffing and out of breath.

The figure let out a long sigh. “Of course he does,” they said, voice strained.

Jeremy felt his blood run cold. That voice was unmistakable. The figure was none other than the Mad King.

Ryan turned to follow the other man out. “I’ll be back,” he said, and his eyes seemed to pierce straight into the wardrobe. Then, he left, slamming the door behind him.

Jeremy crumpled to the floor of the wardrobe, taking a few coats with him. His breath trembled out of him as he tried to steady himself. His head thumped against the back of the wardrobe, and the wood echoed hollowly in response. He had to get out of here.

_Wait…echoed?_

Jeremy opened the wardrobe door and turned around so he could face the back. He gave an experimental knock, and the wood gave another echo. Emboldened, Jeremy shoved himself against the wood paneling, and, with a small creak, the wood gave way. It swung open like a door, revealing a small, stone staircase that descended into inky blackness. Jeremy swallowed dryly. It was a secret passageway. Were Mica and Trevor down there? Or maybe some other insidious secret?

He took a step forward, then hesitated. Could he do this now? He had no light, no weapon, and no backup. The fact that the door had been left open and that Ryan had just gone away were just too good to be true. Did that mean this might be a trap? What if he were to end up missing, just like Mica and Trevor had, leaving Matt alone and with no idea what had happened? He couldn’t do that. Jeremy shook his head, and closed the door shut, scuttling out of the wardrobe and back out into the hallway.

It was important to play this sort of thing safe. He’d tell Matt first, and see what his friend wanted to do with this information. Even so, he couldn’t get rid of the sick feeling in his stomach as he fell to a heap on the floor of his room. He stayed there, shivering, until dawn peaked its head in the sky.

After sending a message with Pudgers, he quickly made his way to the library, his heart thundering in his chest. If that map meant what he thought it did, perhaps they had even less time then he originally thought. They had to make a move, and soon.

As he ran around the corner into the library, Jeremy skidded to an abrupt halt, nearly falling over. There was someone horrifyingly familiar in the library, and felt his soul physically leave his body. Lounging in one of the library chaises, book in hand and chunk of bread in another, was King Geoff. He was facing the exact place Jeremy would need to walk through to get to Matt. There was no way around him.

Great. Fine. Perfect. This was exactly what Jeremy wanted.

He took a deep breath. All he had to was casually walk past the man. That was easy. He could definitely do it. However, Jeremy forgot to factor in the fact that he was a complete idiot that couldn’t do anything normally as he dropped into a half-crouch and began to awkwardly crab-walk against the bookshelf. His movements were mechanic and jerky, and the expression he could feel his face twisting into was anything but natural.

“What the hell are you doing, exactly?” King Geoff said, not looking up from his book.

Right.

“Oh, you know, just getting in my morning stretches before I do some reading,” Jeremy said, laughing nervously. He reached down to touch his toes, and then pulled back up to stretch his arms above his head.

“Who the fuck stretches before reading?” Geoff put his book down so he could fix Jeremy with a half-lidded, dubious stare.

“I’m a…competitive reader,” Jeremy said, then winced at his own explanation. This was just getting worse and worse. He continued to inch his way across the library floor. He was only a few feet away from freedom, now. He could make it.

Geoff was staring intently at him now, leaning forward with his eyes narrowed in concentration.

 _Just let it go,_ Jeremy inwardly pleaded, quickening his pace. _I’m just a normal person. That’s me, Jeremy, a person that’s completely normal and has nothing to do with you-_

“Wait a second,” Geoff said, snapping his fingers. Jeremy froze. He had almost made it, too. “I remember you. You’re that little fucker from the hunt.”

Well, that was certainly a reassuring nickname.

The king’s brow furrowed in thought, and his mouth twisted as he crossed his arms. “Come over here,” he said, tilting his head.

Resigned to his fate, Jeremy sadly stretched his way over to Geoff. As he approached, Geoff held out a hand. “Take it,” he demanded. Jeremy took his hand.

The next few seconds ticked by in tense silence. Jeremy stared at their joined hands. Geoff stared at Jeremy. His hand was warm and calloused, and Jeremy’s was getting increasingly sweatier. Then, after ten seconds of the most awkward moments in Jeremy’s entire life, he let go, leaning back with a smug smile. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Jeremy didn’t have the slightest idea what had just occurred, but he was pretty sure it was the worst. “It was pleasant,” he agreed, instead.

The king nodded happily. “That’s good. When you so vehemently refused my hand last time, you made me think I was diseased or some shit.”

Jeremy’s mouth rounded out in realization. Back in the forest, during the hunt, he had refused Geoff’s hand to help him up. Technically, he had done that because he wanted to metaphorically prove to himself that he was strong enough to stand up on his own, or something dramatic and stupid like that. He hadn’t even considered the idea that the king might find offense in his act. Though, he supposed that if you were a king, someone refusing you might be a bit jolting.

“I was…sick that day,” Jeremy said, looking down.

“Right.” Geoff narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “Anyway, you really hurt my feelings that day. And then, when I said I couldn’t remember you, you made the saddest face in the entire world, like this-” Geoff contorted his face into an exaggerated, pathetic expression that Jeremy was pretty sure he had never made. “- and you made me feel like I stepped on a puppy. It was awful! I spent the whole night – the whole night, like no sleep at all, asshole – thinking about where I could’ve met you from. And then, I remembered.” Geoff smiled triumphantly, pointing a finger at Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy’s eyes widened in terror. “You’re Beasley, aren’t you?”

Jeremy blinked, fear replaced with confusion. “My name is Jeremy,” he said.

Geoff ignored him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Beasley! Don’t you remember? You ran me over with your horse, and then you ran me over with your cart, and then you tried to help me up but accidently stabbed me with your sword instead! Those were some fun times.”

“Wasn’t…wasn’t he just trying to kill you?”

“Oh, no, wait,” Geoff said, brows threading together. “Beasley got executed. Such a shame, really.”

“I sure hope he did, what the fuck,” Jeremy said, a little concerned.

“Ooh! I got it!” Geoff slammed his fist on his other hand, mouth widening into a grin. “You’re Bartholomew, right?”

“I’m still Jeremy, actually.”

“Bartholomew, I remember you like it was yesterday! You challenged me to that chess tournament with my royal name on the line, but then you lost and you were so upset you didn’t even realize you gave me wine with poison in it. How silly of you! Good thing I tripped and spilled it, am I right?” He burst into companionable laughter.

“Does every person you know try to assassinate you?”

“Oh, wait. Bartholomew also got executed,” Geoff sighed in disappointment before he lit up again. “Okay, this time I really got it! You’re Stewart! You beat me in that arm wrestling contest and I owed you like ten thousand gold, or something like that, right?”

“You know what, I can be Stewart. I am now Stewart.”

“Shit, no, Stewart got stabbed that night.” Geoff visibly deflated. He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. “You got to help me out here. I’m too old for this. If I don’t figure it out I’ll never sleep again.” He grabbed at Jeremy’s collar and leaned in so that he was staring right into his eyes. “Who are you?”

“Me? I’m no one. I’m nothing,” Jeremy said. He meant the words to sound offhand, but somehow, they came out a little weak and vulnerable, instead. He flushed, feeling embarrassed at his admission.

Geoff tilted his head, confused. “Everybody’s somebody.”

“That’s strange for a king to say,” Jeremy said, quirking a small smile.

“I mean it, though,” Geoff said earnestly.

Jeremy knew that he did meant it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have idolized him as much as he did those past six years. Geoff had been the first person to see something worth saving in him, to see value where Jeremy had thought there was nothing. Something warm squeezed in his chest. “Well, for the third time, my name is Jeremy,” he said.

“Jeremy, Jeremy,” Geoff hummed, nodding contemplatively. “I’ll remember that. But you never did tell me where-”

“Geoff! There you are!”

A familiar, dark-haired man came bursting through the library doors. He bent over to catch his breath before pointing an accusing hand at Geoff. “Seriously? I’ve been running around the entire castle looking for you, and you’re just sitting here, playing around with some kid?” Jeremy realized that the man was one of Geoff’s representatives from the hunt, the one that had immediately gotten captured by Gavin.

“I’m not playing around with him, Gus. I’m interrogating him,” Geoff said, pouting.

Gus seemed to bristle. “Even Ryan’s out looking for you! You left in the middle of a meeting!”

Geoff let out a long, whiny groan. “Ugh, I don’t care anymore. All I do is work these days. Just tell Ryan I’m dead.”

“You’re going to be dead in a minute if you don’t come back with me,” Gus said, tapping his foot impatiently. “Ryan is really pissed.”

“Ryan is always pissed. He has such a stick up his ass these days. He’s all like ‘Ooh, I’m the Mad King! I’m so broody and scary and I wear a helm and use my mist so no one will see me cry while I jack off alone!’” Geoff said in a high, mocking voice that sounded nothing like Ryan, while he waved his hands around for emphasis.

“Ah, is that how I am?”

They all whirled to see King Ryan leaning against the nearby bookshelf, as if he had been there all along. Horrified, Jeremy immediately dove for cover. He had been aiming to land behind the chaise, but had come up short and had instead slid to a stop in the middle of the library floor. Geoff and Gus turned to look at him, and he gave a sheepish grin. “Found a coin,” he said, and mimed pocketing it, before dragging himself back up in shame. Ryan didn’t even look in his direction.

“Ryan!” Geoff exclaimed, standing up and walking over to the king with arms outstretched. “My best friend Ryan whom I love and adore! And who I would also never make fun of ever.” He kissed the side of Ryan’s helm with a metallic smacking noise, and Gus and Jeremy both winced.

“Nah, I think it was a pretty accurate interpretation of me, honestly,” There was something fond in Ryan’s smile as Geoff threw his arms around him.

“Gross, Ryan, what the fuck. That’s too much information,” Geoff moaned.

“You’re the one that said it in the first place,” Ryan pointed out. He started to drag the both of them out of the door.

“That doesn’t mean you should confirm it!” Geoff whined. “Jeremy, save me!” His complaints faded away as they all exited the library, the door slamming behind them.

Jeremy let out a relieved sigh. Ryan hadn’t even looked at Jeremy, let alone acknowledge his presence. But that didn’t mean he was entirely out of the clear yet. Last time, Ryan hadn’t acknowledged him either until he had gotten Jeremy alone. Perhaps he was waiting for a chance like that again. Jeremy stood around for a few tense minutes before making his way to the back of library. _Maybe I should talk to Matt about switching meet up locations,_ he thought nervously.

Matt was crossly shooing another wisp out of one of the tower’s slats when Jeremy made his way inside. As he sat on one of the crates, Matt turned to give him an excited smile.

“I have good news!” he said, clearing a spot to sit next to Jeremy. “Also, some not so great news, but mostly good news.”

“Well, let’s start with the not so great news, then,” Jeremy said in a reasonable tone.

Matt leaned in, propping his head up on his hands. “Well, I couldn’t find anything on the ender pearls, so I started researching the armilla instead, and man, did I find some interesting things.”

“Interesting?” Jeremy asked, already dreading the response.

“Yeah! Okay, so bad stuff first,” Matt said, flipping open his notebook. “Like, you are really stuck in this thing. There are only a few ways to break it, and none of them are really ideal. The easiest way is mutual consent. If you both agree to it, the bond will dissolve. The next way is if both of you die. Obviously, we don’t want that. But the third way is the most messed up. If the right arm, and only the right arm, decide to betray the king, the bond will break and the king will die. Fucked up, right? This guy must have a hell of a lot of trust in you, for some reason. How ironic, am I right?”

“Gods,” Jeremy breathed, speechless. His armband felt like ice against his skin.

“Also, the closer you two get with each other, the tighter the bond gets. First off, you can tell if the other is in danger and you can also share energy. But later on I think you can like actually get a read on each other’s emotions and thoughts and stuff? It gets kinda vague so I couldn’t entirely understand this part. But, in short, try not to be too friendly with him, I guess.” Matt snorted.

“Yeah, I could do that,” Jeremy said, weakly.

“Now the good stuff,” Matt said, flipping a page in his book and grinning. “Because of this thing you have, we are in a really advantageous position. Not only do you share energy, but you also get a share of his wealth, and – get this – a strong pull in political meetings, especially involving war strategies.” Matt slammed the book closed and looked up to Jeremy, his face flushed with excitement. “This is our big break! I mean, this is just perfect. I don’t know what you did to seduce him into making this with you, but I think I need you to teach me.”

“I didn’t seduce him,” Jeremy said, irritated. “I just helped him save his own life.”

“Right, sure,” Matt said, giving a blank look. “Anyway, all we need to do now is to get you to convince him to either not side with the Mad King, or not invade Lindsay’s kingdom.”

“What, do you want me to just ask him?” Jeremy raised a dubious eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’d be suspicious? Also, there’s no way he’d listen to me.”

“He’d have to,” Matt pointed out. “He’s contractually obligated to. I think? Well, I guess it’d be better if we had some sort of evidence against King Ryan, first.”

“That’ll be an interesting conversation,” Jeremy said, already sporting a headache. “But I’ve found something out as well, then, something that might change things.”

Matt instantly sobered. “What’d you find?”

“Last night I found the Mad King’s room. Usually its guarded and locked, but the door was open that night, so I went inside. I saw a map, one with a lot of x’s and numbers. I think it’s some sort of plan. I don’t think he wants to just take over Lindsay’s kingdom, Matt. I think he wants all of them.”

Matt’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “To betray the alliance? That’s a pretty bold accusation to make,” he said.

“I know. It’s just a thought,” Jeremy said, rubbing at his temples. “But I also found a secret entrance in the back of his wardrobe. I didn’t go in it yet, but I think we might find the real answers back there. Maybe we could find just the evidence we need. We just need the key, somehow, since I couldn’t pick the lock.”

Matt looked thoughtful for a minute, then his eyes hardened in determination. “If that is true, then I think I know how we can get it. Jeremy, it’s time I told you what my talent is.”

“Your talent?” Jeremy said. He had almost forgotten about that entirely. It seemed like a lifetime ago when they were first training for this mission. “I thought Mica and Trevor didn’t want you to tell me.”

“Well, they aren’t around anymore,” Matt said, smiling ruefully. “Hold out your hands.”

Jeremy put his hands out, and Matt began to focus, closing his eyes in concentration. Then, his body began to glow a soft blue, and Jeremy felt the air shift around him. Matt pressed his own hands tightly together, and, with a release of warm energy, pulled something out from them and pushed it into Jeremy’s open palms. Jeremy looked down, stunned. It was a chunk of redstone, glowing softly, and in the shape of a heart.

“What…how did you…?” Jeremy stuttered.

“I’m a sorcerer,” Matt said. “Or, more specifically, a constructor.”

Jeremy stared at the redstone in his palm. It was warm, and very much real. “Matt, this is amazing,” he exclaimed. “I mean, you could be a king, or a god. What the hell are you doing with us?” Sorcerers were a rarity alone, but constructors were a mile above that. They were rumored to have descended from the gods themselves, and were almost worshipped just as much. How could Matt possibly be someone like that? It was a hilarious idea, but Jeremy couldn’t get himself to laugh.

Matt pulled a stick out of nothing and used it to scratch sheepishly at his head. “Well, I never really wanted to be any of those things.” A dark shadow fell over his face. “All my life, these powers have brought me nothing but pain and death. I was sick of all the greed, and the fighting, so I ran away.” He shrugged listlessly, and something tugged at Jeremy’s heart.

“Matt... gods, I am so sorry,” he said. Once again, Jeremy was struck by the fact that he really knew nothing about his friends. It was a sobering thought.

“Eh, I mean, it’s fine now,” Matt said. “For a long time, I hated my power, and hated myself for having it. But then I met Lindsay, and she showed me how I could use it in a good way. Like, helping people rebuild their homes and stuff like that after the war. Being with you guys, well… I never thought I could be that happy.” His face hardened in determination. “And I’d do anything to protect that.”

“Matt,” Jeremy said, and flung his arms around his friend. “I don’t even know what to say, what the fuck. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Well, Mica and Trevor didn’t tell you because they were afraid you wouldn’t want to be a part of the mission anymore,” Matt said, shrugging.

Technically, Mica and Trevor were right to have been worried about that. If Jeremy had learned that Matt was a godling a month back, he would’ve probably forgone the mission entirely so he could sit on the floor of his house for the rest of his life and contemplate the insanity that was his entire existence, or something along those lines. Hearing it now, however, didn’t have the same impact. Too much had happened, and Jeremy was pretty sure he didn’t have a soul anymore at this point, let alone a shit to give.

“I didn’t tell you because I was worried you might treat me differently, I guess,” Matt added quietly, looking at Jeremy nervously through his spectacles.

Suddenly, Jeremy recalled that night on the ship with Trevor, when they had that conversation about Trevor being an assassin. Back then, Trevor had the same note of vulnerability in his voice as Matt did now. It was strange, Jeremy realized, but there was something similar about how all of them were. It was as if Lindsay’s kingdom attracted those sorts of people; people that were running from their pasts and from the people that they were before, that were seeking redemption from the things they’ve done. _A kingdom of misfits_ , Jeremy thought, and smiled softly to himself.

“Matt, I really don’t care,” he said, and ruffled his friend’s hair. “You’re still you, yeah? So what if you’re part god? Who even cares about anything anymore? I want a pie.” He threw Matt a sideways glance. “Could you…create a pie?”

Matt groaned and pulled his head out of Jeremy’s grip. “You know it doesn’t work like that. I can only construct raw materials, like wood. It’s not like I could pull a wheel of cheese out of my asshole.”

“That’s too bad. I would love your ass cheese,” Jeremy pouted. Matt whacked him with his book. “Fine, fine. How about you create a mountain of diamonds and we just pay King Ryan off?”

“I mean, I could do it. But it’d take like a decade and I might die like thirty times,” Matt said. “The more complex the material, the longer and the more energy it takes. Besides, I’d rather not create anymore diamonds or gold or anything like that. Personal preference.”

Jeremy wanted to press the issue, but as he saw the haunted look in his friend’s eyes, and decided to drop it. Matt had mentioned earlier that greed was one of the reasons he hated his power and ran away from his old life. It wasn’t too hard to connect the dots. “Well,” Jeremy said, tapping his chin. “How about you create like a giant stick, and we could whack Ryan with it?”

“That would solve literally nothing, but okay,” Matt said dryly. “I was thinking more along the lines of creating a key for his room.”

“You can do that?” Jeremy exclaimed, awestruck.

“Sort of. I can take any material I create and form it a bit, like I did with your redstone. The only issue is, I have no idea what the key looks like.”

Jeremy’s wonder slowly got taken over by dawning horror. “Oh, no,” he said. “I think I know where this is going.”

Matt gave him an apologetic smile. “Yeah. I need a mold. And that’s where you come in.”

“No, no, no. Hell no.”

“Jeremy, we’re spies. This is the sort of thing we should be doing in the first place,” Matt said. “And I actually have a plan. The ball is tomorrow, right? All kings are required to attend. So, you go in, distract the Mad King long enough to get a mold of the key, and then get it to me. While you keep him distracted, I’ll break in and find out what’s in that secret passageway. It could work out!”

“Big, giant issue with this ‘plan’,” Jeremy said. “How the fuck do you expect me to distract him enough to get a mold of key we don’t even know if he’ll have?”

Matt blinked slowly. “I don’t know. Use your hidden talents of seduction? Besides, he has to have the key on him. How else would he get into his room?”

Jeremy rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “Wasn’t it like a week ago where you were telling me to avoid him at all costs? Now you’re asking me to seduce him?”

“Considering how it went with King Michael, I bet it could work,” Matt shrugged. “Just say something like this - ‘Oh, Mad King, hello there handsome, even though I’ve actually never seen your face,’” Matt said in high voice. He sashayed over to Jeremy and pulled a finger down his chest, fluttering his eyelashes. “’Would you like to…insert your key into my mold?’”

Jeremy kicked Matt’s crotch, sending him wheeling backwards. “Yeah, sure, I’ll say that,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to get instantaneously disintegrated.”

“I was just joking.” Matt winced and adjusted his pants.

“Actually,” Jeremy said, realization hitting him. “I think I do have another solution.” Jeremy rifled in his bag for a minute before pulling out a small, vibrantly blue potion. “I got this from Larry before we left to come here. It’s a sleeping potion. I had been planning on using it for some sort of prank or something, but I think it might work better for this.”

Matt looked in awe at the small bottle. “Larry gave you a potion? An actual potion? And you were going to use it on a prank?”

Technically, Jeremy had received many potions from Larry, all of which he had used on pranks, and most of which involved Matt, but it would probably be better not to say that aloud. “I almost forgot about it, honestly,” he admitted. The day he had gotten that potion had been the day Lindsay had told him about her plan; the day that everything changed. It was strange to think about.

“Slipping the Mad King a sleeping potion, huh,” Matt said, face screwed up in concentration. “Considering the size of it, it would probably last for about a couple minutes, which is more than enough time to make a mold and replace the key. Also, the potion does cause memory loss, so he probably won’t suspect you, and might just think he got too drunk and blacked out. I guess it could work.”

“It’d better work,” Jeremy said. But, as he stared at the blue liquid in the bottle, he felt the oddest sensation of familiarity wash over him, a feeling that made his head pound. Truthfully, the idea didn’t sit right with him for many reasons. Still, there was no more room for morals at this point. And it was the Mad King, the person who might be the downfall of everything he was fighting for. He couldn’t let himself feel guilty over that. “But would you really be okay breaking into his room by yourself? What if it’s a trap?”

“It’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Matt said, mouth a grim line. “But every day we spend not doing something is a day we get further away from Trevor and Mica. This is the only lead we have right now.”

“You’re right,” Jeremy sighed. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, alright?”

“Of course! I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve,” Matt said. He conjured out a chunk of cobblestone and mimed taking it out of his sleeve with a cheesy wink. “Don’t worry so much. Before you know it, the Mad King will be behind bars and Mica and Trevor will be safe, and we can go back to Lindsay. Back home.”

Home. That sounded nice.

Jeremy wasn’t sure why, but he felt as if this would be their final chance at making things right. He couldn’t help but think of all his awful dreams he’d been having lately. But somehow, as he stared at Matt’s grinning face, he couldn’t feel that sick feeling in his stomach anymore. He pulled that redstone shaped heart close to his chest, and it gave a warm pulse. Jeremy closed his eyes, letting the heat chase his nightmares away, and allowed himself to hope again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I did say that this was going to be the gentsy ball chapter, but somehow the setup took a lot longer to get through than I thought it would??? I'm sorry...it'll be next chapter ;;; It's probably better that the ball is all together in one chapter tho because oh boy is it a doozy ;) It's also the first chapter in this fic that all of the main six show up in, which is kinda hilarious.....oops.............  
> Anyways, thanks for reading!! You guys are the sweetest ;_;


	9. Gilded Masks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter somehow became the longest that I've written so far, which is a bit funny to me, since I'm pretty sure its like 90% dialogue? I wasn't able to look over it too much, so I hope there aren't too many horrible mistakes.  
> Enjoy!

“How do I look?”

Michael gave a small, dramatic twirl, his cloak flourishing behind him. Then, he dropped into a pose, his lips pursed and his brows raised. Instead of wearing his usual half-shirts and furs, Michael was clothed in rather fancy attire that seemed more befitting of a king. His tunic was burgundy and decorated with gold trimming, and was buttoned up to his neck. His pants were thin, and rather form-fitting, and slid right into his knee-high black boots.

“It suits you,” Jeremy said, and he meant it. He stretched a bit, and settled more on his perch on Michael’s bed. “But…uh…what about your mask?”

Michael lifted the item in question and placed over his face. The mask was carved in the shape of a bear, with its jaw open in a toothy grin, and Michael seemed just as inhuman with it on. “Hmm? I didn’t forget it.” Michael hummed. “Ryan gave this to me. Tonight’s gonna be weird, huh? He said he did this sort of ball all of the time back in his home kingdom, but if you ask me, he just wanted to be creepy.”

Jeremy had only heard that it was going to be a ball of masks recently, but the idea already unnerved him. It did certainly seem like something the Mad King would like, especially since he wore that damn helm all the time. However, it did conveniently fit pretty well into Matt’s plan. If Jeremy wore a mask, he might be able to trick Ryan into drinking the potion easier. Still, fooling the Mad King was a pretty daunting task, and Jeremy tried not to think too much about what he was about to do tonight.

“It looks good,” Jeremy said. “But…I kind of don’t have one for myself.”

“Oh, right,” Michael realized. He reached into his satchel and pulled a mask out, pressing it into Jeremy’s hands. As Jeremy stared down at the mask, he felt his blood run cold. “Some anonymous person got you one too, for whatever reason. I don’t even know how they got it, since I was pretty sure it burned up. Guess I was wrong.”

The mask in Jeremy’s hands had been sanded, repainted, and inlaid with gold trim, but the color scheme was still horrifyingly unmistakable. Purple and orange. It was Rimulus’ mask, the man whose head Michael had sent flying, and who had almost killed Jeremy. Why was this given him this? Was it some sort of threat?

“You don’t know who gave it to you? Did they…say anything?” Jeremy asked, turning the mask over and over in his hands.

Michael scratched at his head. “Not really? They gave it to my servant, or something. It doesn’t really matter.” He shrugged, and Jeremy tried not to feel too frustrated. “Honestly, I think it’s a great idea. Not sure why I didn’t think of it before. Usually, spoils of war are the fallen’s heads, but I might’ve kicked his into the flames.” Michael tipped his own head back and let out a bellowing laugh. Jeremy winced. Sometimes, he thought he and Michael were getting close to understanding each other, but every once in a while, the king would say something inhuman like that, and Jeremy would remember just how different they truly were.

Jeremy stared down at the mask, and it grinned back at him. He sighed. Fine, he would play along with this game, at least for tonight. He put the mask on.

 Michael’s laughter increased in volume. “Oh gods, those colors are fucking awful. You look like a fucking idiot.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy said dryly. He turned to look in the mirror, and his heart skipped a beat. His appearance was jolting with the mask on. It was almost as if Rimulus was grinning back at him with that slash of a smile, and he felt his neck twinge. He shook that away, and struck a pose similar to Michael’s. “You know what, I think I like it. Maybe I’ll always wear this.”

Michael’s laughter faded away. “Oh gods. Please don’t tell me this is going to be a thing, Jeremy.”

“I’m not Jeremy,” he said in a fake, deep voice. “I am Rimulus Timulus, now.”

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Michael let a long groan. “Please take that thing off before it corrupts you.”

Jeremy spun dramatically out of Michael’s reach. “It is too late,” Jeremy cried. “I no longer know where the mask ends and where I begin.”

“I am asking you with every ounce of my kingly authority to shut the fuck up,” Michael said, stomping after him.

“Rimulus does not listen to authority,” Jeremy said, sidestepping out of his way.

“Come here, you little shithead.” Michael trapped Jeremy into a corner and snapped his mask off with a smirk. “Well, what do you know. Jeremy was there all along.” His cheeks dimpled as his smile turned genuine, and his eyes sparkled fondly. Jeremy was suddenly extremely aware of their close proximity; Michael’s arms were on either side of his chest, and his face was so close that he almost went cross eyed trying to look at him. Suddenly, it felt like his heart was pounding too fast and face felt too hot.

_Don’t get close._

Jeremy ducked out from under Michael’s arms and stumbled a few steps back. “Anyway, we need to get going,” he said, laughing nervously.

 A flicker of hurt passed over Michael’s face before it was replaced by his usual grin. “You’re right. Gavin will throw a fit if I’m late,” he said, and walked out of the door of his room, into the bustle of the castle. Jeremy followed after him, and tried not to feel like a shitty person.

The ball was taking place in outside of the castle and in the noble’s district, so the two of them made their way out into the night. The air was cold, and Jeremy settled his cloak further on his shoulders, biting back his shivers. The silver flask that contained the sleeping potion felt like ice against his thigh. Jeremy had fooled the Mad King once before, but would he possibly be able to do it again? The masks certainly made things easier, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like he was walking unarmed into a spider’s den.

One more night. One final push. He could do this.

People were already flooding outside the ballroom, dressed in extravagant costumes and dresses, talking and laughing together in loose groups. As Michael approached, they grew quiet, parting a respectful path for him. Even with the mask, the king had an indistinguishable presence.

The door to the ball was spilling out warm, golden light – a sharp contrast of the cold blues and greens of the surrounding area. It was so bright that Jeremy had to squint as they approached it. Music was pouring out as well, the sounds rich and jovial. He shielded his eyes as they stepped through the door, but it took a second for his vision to adjust. When it finally did, his jaw dropped open.

Jeremy had never seen so much gold in his entire life. It was everywhere: from a thin dusting across the floor to the painted, arching ceilings. Shimmering glitter that fell like snow drifted from small, magicked clouds that hovered over people’s heads, and it settled gold onto their clothes and hair. Large, golden trees swayed at the edges of the dance floor, moving as if they were made of real wood, and sent metallic leaves fluttering across the opening. A massive fountain spewed molten gold from the center of the room in a constant flow of wealth. There were also small, ball shaped lanterns that drifted around the room like wandering stars. The ballroom was open on all sides through large, arching walkways, so that dazzling, yellow light spilled out into the dark night, and long, sheer golden curtains waved in the breeze.

Spread all around were crowds of party-goers dressed so extravagantly that they were a spectacle upon themselves. They were wearing intricately put together costumes; wearing the masks of anything from creepers and skeletons and monsters with open, bloody maws, to jesters and cows and nobles with exaggerated frowns. It was as if Jeremy had stumbled in upon some sort of play, and as he stared around at the all of the mask’s grotesque, painted grins surrounding him on all sides, he felt ill.

“They certainly went all out,” Jeremy said, ducking nervously out of the way as someone dressed in the mask of a crow leered down at him.

“Of course Geoff did,” Michael said, crossing his arms. “It is the last dance, after all.” His tone was odd, and with the mask on, it was almost as if he were a stranger again. He seemed feral and aloof, just as he was when Jeremy had seen him for the first time, covered in the blood of the man whose mask he was now wearing.

Before Jeremy could question his cryptic statement, Michael started to shoulder his way through the crowd, and Jeremy followed behind, quickening his pace to make sure he wasn’t swept away. He made sure to scan the people around him, keeping an eye out for a horned helm. He needed to find Ryan as quickly as he was able, so that this gilded nightmare could hopefully come to an end.

There was a strange high, whistling noise, and Jeremy turned to watch as one of those floating lanterns came spiraling down to the dance floor. Its light intensified, becoming a single, bright beam, and it shone down on a singular man who was dancing with a partner nearby to Jeremy. The man stopped to look up, and immediately a crowd began to form around him, people pointing and laughing. The man looked around nervously and took a step forward, but the crowd caged him in, and the light only grew brighter, as if to blind him. Then, the man’s shoulders slumped, and he pulled off his mask. His partner made a noise of shock and reared back to slap the man before storming off. The crowd began to clap and jeer at the unmasked man, as the light dimmed back down and spiraled back up to the ceiling.

“What the fuck just happened over there?” Jeremy asked, baffled.

Michael let out a low snort. “Something of a party game. I think I can guess whose idea that was.”

As Jeremy opened his mouth to question him, he felt a hand suddenly reach out and yank him away, trapping him into someone’s grasp. Jeremy looked up, shocked, to see he was in the arms of someone thin and tall, wearing the mask of a jester with an unnatural, curving smile. The man gave a small inclination of their head, and then swung Jeremy around in a tight circle before dipping him dramatically, low enough that Jeremy’s head almost brushed the floor.

“Gavin, what the hell are you doing?” Michael asked.

The masked man jolted violently and dropped Jeremy, who hit the floor with a thunk and a curse. The man tore off his mask to reveal that he was indeed Gavin, his eyebrows raised high in distress.

“Michael! You ruined it! How’d you even know it was me?” he cried.

“Are we really going to do this again?” Michael groaned. “How dumb do you think I am?”

“Jeremy didn’t know it was me,” Gavin pointed out.

“Yeah, well, Jeremy is a fucking idiot,” Michael said.

“Jeremy is also still on the floor,” Jeremy said. The two kings ignored him as they slipped into their usual banter, and he let out a sigh and picked himself off the ground, his joints creaking in protest, and his clothes now coated in a fine layer of golden dust.

“I just wanted to tell Jeremy the good news,” Gavin was saying, his lip protruding in a pout. As Jeremy stood up, Gavin placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave him an excited smile. “I am officially on your side. You can count on me, now,” he announced proudly, and placed his hands on his hips.

Michael snapped his own mask off so he could fix Gavin with an angry glare. “What are you even saying? I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“I decided on my own,” Gavin said, grinning. “I want to help protect him, too. Besides, we are leaving tomorr-”

“Gavin, shut your fat fucking mouth.” Michael cut him off and his glare turned dangerous. “Are you incapable of understanding what it means to keep a secret?”

“Protect me?” Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed. “You mean against people that might use me for being an armilla?”

Michael let out a heavy groan, and buried his face in his hands. “Yeah, just announce that in front of the whole ballroom, why don’t you? I’m done with you idiots. I’m going to find Geoff.” He rolled his eyes and stalked back off into the crowd.

“Michael, I’m sorry,” Gavin said in a placating tone, following after him.

After a moment of hesitation, Jeremy followed after him as well. If he were to see King Geoff, there was a strong chance that Ryan would be around as well. The two had been pretty inseparable this past week, as far as he could tell. But, if he wanted to trick Ryan, it would probably be best to not be around Michael or Gavin. He’d have to make sure to get away from them as soon as he could.

As he pressed forward, he felt a cold trickle of apprehension run down his neck, causing the fine hairs on his neck to stand up. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was suddenly very certain that someone was watching him. He stopped walking to look anxiously around him. A sea of wooden faces surrounded him, their hollow eyes and painted smiles all tipped towards him. There was no way to tell if they were looking at him or through him. He shivered, and continued on. Maybe he had just imagined it.

He had lost sight of Gavin, but there was an excited throng of people gathering around something, so he made his way over there. They were clustered around a man sitting on an elevated chair, his red cloak spilling out all around him like a pool of blood. He was wearing a mask that looked to be made up of pure gold, shaped to look like the front of a war helmet. Gavin and Michael were standing next to him, their voices rising in pitch as their arguing continued.

“Geoff!” Gavin said, pulling at the golden masked man’s sleeve. “Tell Michael he’s wrong!”

Geoff lifted his mask up so he could rub at his eyes. “Look, you assholes need to take this somewhere else. I am not putting up with this tonight. Go away.” He motioned one of his guards over, and had them drag away the still-fighting couple. When they were gone, he let a sigh of relief, and settled back down in his seat.

Jeremy quickly scanned the crowd around him, searching for that helm again, or some sort of aura of death, but found nothing. He frowned and prepared to leave, but as he was turning, Geoff’s eyes caught his, and his expression instantly brightened.

“Oh! Everyone look!” he announced, pointing an excited finger at Jeremy. The crowd obligingly turned to look. “It’s Jeremy! He’s my new friend, and I remembered his name.”

With horror, Jeremy realized that he had still never actually put his mask back on, and it was still clutched pointlessly in his sweaty hands. He slowly turned to face Geoff, shoulders slumped in resignation. “Uh, yeah, that’s me, I guess,” he said. The crowd clapped politely.

Geoff’s grin brightened. “Well, don’t be shy again. Come over here.” He beckoned him over, and Jeremy unwillingly obeyed, shuffling his feet as he walked towards the king. “I learned some interesting news about him the other day. Would you all want to hear?”

The crowd murmured their assent. Jeremy frowned. “News?” he asked.

Geoff slung a friendly arm around Jeremy, drawing him in closer. Jeremy looked around anxiously, seeking help. From out of the corner of Jeremy’s eye, he noticed a familiar figure wearing a mask of a pink cat. The figure gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod, and Jeremy’s eyes widened. Judging by the scraggly ponytail and slumped shoulders, it had to be Matt.

“So,” Geoff began, leaning forward in a conspiring way despite his loud voice. “When this little guy first met me, he asked me if I remembered him, right? And of course I did not remember him, because, you know, it’s me.” The listening partygoers chuckled amiably in response. Jeremy felt his stomach drop. “And then, he was so upset, he refused to take my hand. Isn’t that awful?” Jeremy flinched as everyone turned to glare at him, gasping dramatically as if Geoff had just declared Jeremy a murderer. Why was Geoff telling this story? He couldn’t have possibly figured out that Jeremy was lying, could he have? Jeremy really did not like where this was going.

“But then,” Geoff continued. “I learned something interesting from a certain friend of mine. Turns out the reason he pretended to know that he knew me was because he thought I was attractive, and wanted to get my attention. Isn’t that cute?” The crowd tilted their heads and let out a few cooing noises. Jeremy’s mouth dropped open.

“Was the person you learned this from your own inflated ego?” Michael asked. Jeremy hadn’t even realized that he had returned, but he stood now on the edge of the gathering crowd, his arms crossed. Gavin stood behind him, eyes glittering in amusement.

“No!” Geoff protested. “It was Ryan, actually, so fuck you.” Michael and Gavin exchanged baffled glances.

“Ry- King Ryan told you?” Jeremy whispered frantically. “Why?”

For some reason, Jeremy assumed that he would’ve kept it to himself- he had seemed embarrassed enough about it. But perhaps the Mad King’s evil plan was simply to humiliate Jeremy to death. If it was, he was definitely making ground on that.

Geoff scratched sheepishly at his head. “Yeah, I might’ve brought you up a couple times. He said I would’ve never actually focused on work unless I knew, so he told me.”

“He was probably just fucking with you, Geoff,” Michael said, unamused.

Geoff wilted a bit. “I don’t think so,” he said, voice unsure. He turned to look at Jeremy. “Was he right?”

“Yeah, was he?” Michael asked. The crowd tittered excitedly, as if sensing the drama, and took a step forward. They all turned to look at Jeremy.

Once again, Jeremy felt as if he was backed into a corner. Except, this time, there was no Mad King smirking at him with a metaphorical knife at his throat. Well, at least, he hoped there wasn’t. Jeremy snuck a look at Matt, and the man gave a small shrug. Jeremy sighed, silently accepting his fate.

“Uh…yeah. He was right,” Jeremy said.

Geoff shot up triumphantly, his arms raised up. “I knew it, I knew it! Eat shit, Michael. I am a sexy bastard and you know it!” The crowd began to clap again.

Michael rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying I don’t know it, Geoff. I’m just saying it’s weird that Ryan would know that.” He gave Jeremy a quick glance before looking back at Geoff. “But I guess there’s a lot of things I don’t know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Geoff cried, but Michael was already walking away, Gavin skipping gleefully after him. “Whatever. Everyone’s acting like a fucking weirdo these days.” He faced Jeremy again, and propped his head in his hands. “So, what do you think is the most attractive about me, huh? Is it my soulful eyes?” He fluttered his eyelashes. “Or maybe my stately facial hair?”

Jeremy snuck a look at Matt, and Matt lifted his mask so that he could mouth the words ‘say anything’ at him. Some help that was. “Your smile?” Jeremy offered.

“Oh, boo,” Geoff said, frowning. The crowd booed as well. “That’s not an exciting answer. Is it my ass? You don’t have to be embarrassed if it’s my ass.”

Jeremy sent another frantic look to Matt, but Matt just gave another useless shrug.

“Um…as nice as I’m sure…all that is, it’s more like the way you care about others and the way you treat people that…” Jeremy trailed off. Geoff blinked at him. “You know what? Nevermind. It’s totally your ass.”

Geoff reared back and began to laugh loudly, almost tipping his chair over. “Oh gods, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Gus, we need to hire him.”

“Hire him to do what? Literally kiss your ass? Fuck no,” Gus said, massaging wearily at his temples.

As the crowd began to disperse, satisfied with the show, an idea occurred to Jeremy. He leaned down towards the still laughing king. “Um…you and King Ryan seem rather close,” he started, forcing his tone to sound conversational.

Geoff wiped away his tears, and fixed his face with a smug smile. “Oh? We do? Yeah, I love that guy. Salt of the earth, honestly.”

Jeremy sincerely doubted that, considering the previous interactions the two kings had with each other, but he didn’t suppose that sort of thing really mattered. “Are you saving a dance for him later?” he asked casually.

“With Ryan? Fuck no,” Geoff said, pulling a horrified face. “That guy’s probably going to be stuffing his face all night, anyway.”

 _Stuffing his face?_ Jeremy squinted at Geoff, trying to detect any sarcasm, but the king only looked exasperated, and not untruthful. _Well, I guess even Mad Kings have to eat,_ Jeremy thought, shrugging. It was a good start, at least.

“That sounds nice. Stuffing my face, I mean,” Jeremy said, and began to awkwardly shuffle away. “I am leaving now to do the same. Goodbye.” He saw Matt facepalm out of the corner of his eye.

“If you see Ryan, could you make sure he’s enjoying himself?” Geoff asked, giving him a sharp look. “That guy needs to relax more than any of us, especially tonight.”

Jeremy flinched guiltily. Technically, a sleep potion would probably be the best way to get someone to relax. “Yeah. I’ll do that,” he promised, and scampered off.

He made his way over to the food table, leaving the jovial king behind, his stomach churning with anxiety. As he scanned the dancing masked people around him, it occurred to him that he had no idea if Ryan was even going to be wearing that helm as he usually did. Jeremy didn’t even know if he actually wore that helm all the time, or if he was just conveniently wearing it whenever Jeremy saw him. He also didn’t have the slightest idea what the king looked like. If he was wearing a regular mask, Jeremy wouldn’t have any way to identify him, besides his voice. Jeremy suddenly felt dizzy.

His anxiety drained away as he approached the dinner table, and his mouth dropped as his stomach rumbled. He had downed several goblets of wine and was drifting towards a pile of fluffy potatoes when he felt another chill run down his back. He stood up straight and quickly looked around him. This time, he located the source. A man was watching him intently from the corner of the dance floor, leaning up against a pillar with his arms crossed. He was dressed in all black, and was tall, as far as Jeremy could tell, and pretty beefy as well. He also wore a rather hyper-realistic leather mask of a grinning wolf. Jeremy shuddered, and averted his gaze. He was being too self-conscious. For all he knew, the man could be looking at the food.

“Everything alright?” Jeremy shot up in shock as a woman approached him and lightly grabbed his arm. She was wearing a blood red dress and a mask of a fox, and she tilted her head curiously at him.

“Uh…who?” Jeremy stuttered.

“Oh, right,” the woman laughed, and removed her mask. It was Meg, and Jeremy nearly fell over in relief.

Jeremy smiled amiably at her. He had gotten a bit close with the maid throughout the week, after he convinced her to eat breakfast with her. She would tell him all the gossip from the castle, and he would tell he any weird stories about Michael’s warriors. It made his mornings pretty pleasant, which was a nice change.

“You have the night off?” he asked, leaning against the table.

Meg picked up a chicken wing and inspected it happily. “All of the castle staff do, actually, courtesy of King Geoff. Also, I wouldn’t miss an event like this for the world. Not knowing whether the person next to you is a friend or foe – don’t you find that exhilarating?” She smirked at him, and pulled her mask back down.

Jeremy grimaced. “I already have a hard enough time figuring out people in the first place, so not really. This is like a nightmare to me.”

“Well, it’s the nature of nightmares to end,” Meg said. “So, you’ll be fine. I would recommend you keep your mask on, though - it’s best to take advantage of the anonymity of the night. You wouldn’t want to bring too much attention to yourself.”

Jeremy thought of the man with the wolf mask, and looked back over at where he had been standing. The man was gone.

“Shit. I keep forgetting that,” Jeremy said, and slipped his mask back on.

“You looked pretty nervous when I came up to you. Everything alright?” Meg asked, voiced raised higher in curiosity.

“Well, not really,” Jeremy admitted. “I’m…looking for someone, and obviously it’s a bit tough.” He motioned out at the sea of masks.

“Perhaps I can help?” Meg offered. “I’m pretty talented at finding people. What do they look like, roughly?”

That was the question of the century.

“He’s…uh…tall?” Jeremy said.

“Tall to us, or tall in general?”

Jeremy stared blankly at Meg for a minute, and she stared back, blinking innocently. Then, he sighed. “Tall in general,” he mumbled.

“Anything else?”

“Um…he has a beard. I think? And…he has…eyes? And like, a mouth, or something.”

It was Meg’s turn to stare at him. “Well, that narrows it down.”

Jeremy groaned, and slumped down. “I know, I know. I have nothing and I’m a fucking idiot.”

“I wasn’t going to say that. But I don’t really think I can help you,” Meg said. There was a short pause, and Meg’s eyes slid to his through the slits of her mask, then up at the ceiling. “But, don’t worry too much. No secret can stay alive in the light.” Then, before Jeremy could question her, she sauntered off, her gown rustling behind her.

Jeremy blinked, then looked up, where those strange lanterns were milling about on the ceiling. Every once in a while one would dive down and illuminate someone in a perfect white beam, trapping them as everyone else gathered around to watch. He felt something cold settle in the pit of his stomach.

_The lights are watching us._

His hand drifted almost involuntarily towards his pocket, where he kept that note from Trevor on him at times. He knew the note had to be nonsense – there was no way Trevor would write something so cryptic. But still, there was something unnerving about this night, something that didn’t sit quite right with him. He shook himself, dispelling his thoughts. He didn’t have time to think about such strange things. He had a mission to accomplish, first. He needed to find Ryan, and fast. 

Jeremy peeked around the food table, looking for any kings stuffing their faces, but the area was curiously empty. He even checked underneath the tablecloth, just in case, but found no one. He let out a loud groan. He was back to square one.

As Jeremy prepared himself to brave the crowd once more, he saw someone take their mask off, and move towards one of the building’s openings. His heart jumped excitedly in his chest, and a smile grew on his face. It was Jack. Meg had told him that all the castle’s workers were off, but he hadn’t even considered that Jack would be one of them. The man made his way outside, and Jeremy felt himself following after him. He decided he would indulge himself for a little bit, and greet Jack. If anything, he felt as if seeing the librarian would give him some sort of confidence to take on his task.

The music and warmth of the ball faded as he stepped outside, and the muted colors of the night seemed dull in comparison. Jeremy’s breath misted out of him, and he shivered, pulling his mask off before wrapping his arms around himself. Jack had already disappeared the stone pathway, so Jeremy jogged to catch up. The sound of his footsteps and the gentle rustling of leaves were the only sounds, making the atmosphere feel alien and strange.

Jack came to a stop at the foot of a large, silver fountain that was gurgling softly, lit up gently by a few dim, purple lanterns. But as Jeremy stepped forward, he froze, and the smile drained from his face.  

Jack wasn’t alone. The lighting around him was vague, but Jeremy knew immediately that the man with Jack was King Geoff. Then, as he watched, the two embraced tightly – the sort of hug of people that were more than just close, as if they were afraid they would disappear if they broke apart. Jeremy forgot how to breathe.

This wasn’t strange. Jack was Geoff’s librarian, and he had mentioned before that he had done some enchanting for the king. It would be strange if they didn’t know each other, especially considering Geoff’s personality. But for some reason, Jeremy found himself frozen in place, unable to make a sound or turn back.

“I missed you,” Geoff said, pulling apart from the hug to give Jack a soft look.

Jack let out a quiet laugh. “What are you talking about? We saw each other a few hours ago.”

Geoff made a face. “Yeah, but Ryan was there too, so that doesn’t count. He makes everything weird.”

“You should go easy on him,” Jack said, leaning down to perch on the rim of the fountain. “You know it’s been hard for him to adjust to this sort of thing.”

Jack…knew the Mad King? Jeremy’s heart couldn’t stop pounding, and before he knew it he had dropped to his knees, crouching behind the hedges to watch them while hidden.

“Oh, whatever,” Geoff said, waving his hand flippantly. “The guy should just get over himself already. He’s bringing the rest of us down. And I don’t like the way he looks at you sometimes, when you’re working together.”

Working together? Jeremy felt as if he were a second away from passing out. He bit his lip, willing himself to focus.

“Well, none of that will matter soon, anyway,” Jack said, and Geoff sighed, sitting down next to him. Jeremy noted the similarity of the finality in that statement to the one Michael and Gavin had said during the festival. What the hell was going on with these kings? With the way they were talking, it was as if they were about to simultaneously implode or something like that.

There was beat of silence, and Geoff fidgeted with his clothes. “I, uh…wanted to ask you something, but you have to promise me you won’t hate me for it.”

Jack gave him a wary look. “Alright.”

“I was thinking that you should try talking to Michael and Gavin again. I mean, I don’t entirely understand what happened, but they’re really upset, and it wouldn’t hurt to apologize,” Geoff said quickly.

Jack had gone completely still, and Geoff’s fidgeting increased. There was a tense pause. “I don’t see why I have to apologize when I’ve done nothing wrong.” There was a dangerous note in Jack’s voice. “Have you taken their side, then?”

Geoff jolted nervously. “What? No, it’s nothing like that. I just… I don’t want us to be fighting while everything is going down. It’s important that we work as one, you know? Just promise me that you’ll think about it.”

Jack was silent again, and for a minute, Jeremy thought he was about to refuse. Then, the man sighed, and the tension released from his shoulders. “Alright, I’ll do it - for you.”

Geoff sprung up happily, bringing Jack up with him so he could spin him around. “Thank you! I love you so much!” Jack let out a surprised laugh, and Geoff leaned forward to press a kiss to his mouth, silencing him.

Jeremy felt as if he had been punched in the stomach.

They broke apart. “Save your last dance for me?” Jack asked.

“Always,” Geoff said.

After a final goodbye, Geoff walked off, leaving Jack alone. For a long minute, Jack just stood there, staring at the place Geoff had left. Jeremy couldn’t quite interpret his expression from the distance and the lighting, but something about the way he was standing sent a chill down his back. Then, Jack reached into his satchel and took out his mask – a thin one made up of silver and white, with a small, painted smile – and placed it over his face. Without a word, he walked back into the ballroom.

Jeremy waited until the man was out of sight before he let out a shaky breath. This changed everything. Jack and Geoff were together – romantically. But more than that, they were working with Ryan towards something. Jeremy thought of that map he saw the other night, and felt himself shudder. Did Geoff know what Ryan wanted? Did Jack know? Was Jack only involved because he was with Geoff, or was he involved for a different reason? Jeremy’s head began to spin.

_Who the hell was Jack?_

“They’re sickeningly sweet, aren’t they.”

Jeremy nearly jumped out of his skin. Gavin was lounging next to him in the grass, head propped up by his hands as if he had been there the whole time. His eyes were half-lidded with boredom. Jeremy scrambled to his feet.

“You…what are you doing?” Jeremy exclaimed, his face flushed and his eyes wide with horror.

Gavin yawned. “Same thing you are, I suppose.”

“I’m not- this isn’t what you think,” Jeremy protested, his heart pounding. “I ended up here by accident.”

Gavin didn’t even look at him, his eyes still focused on the place Jack had been previously. “He’s going to apologize? What a load of horse shit. That prick wouldn’t apologize even if his minuscule penis was torn off.”

“I didn’t even hear anything either. I was actually looking for bugs this entire time. Were Jack and Geoff even there? I didn’t even notice. Look at all these bugs!” Jeremy rambled, laughing nervously, as he scooped up handfuls of soil.

Gavin stood up, rolling his eyes. “Jeremy, I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. I know you were just curious. Trust me, I understand what if feels like to be left in the dark.”

“I…uh. Oh.” Jeremy dropped the dirt.

Gavin’s eyes slid to his. They reflected the soft purple light, making him seem almost inhuman in the chilled night air. “If it was up to me, I would just tell you everything. But Michael is so pig-headed sometimes, and he thinks he’s protecting the people he’s actually hurting, in the end.” His expression was dark, and Jeremy swallowed anxiously.

“Where is Michael?” he asked, taking a careful step backwards.

Gavin shrugged. “Back inside. I don’t care.”

They were fighting. Was it because of him? Jeremy stepped forward to put a hand on Gavin’s shoulder, and the king turned to look at him, surprised. “Look, Gavin. There’s nothing between me and Michael, okay? I don’t want you to misunderstand anything.”

“Nothing between..?” Gavin blinked at him, then began to laugh, clutching at his chest. “Oh man, poor Michael. I suppose I could easily clear this up, but it’s way more fun to watch this go up in flames.” He tilted his head, regarding Jeremy with mirth filled eyes. “You’re a bit of a right mess, aren’t you? I have a feeling things will be far more interesting with you around.”

Jeremy squinted suspiciously at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I feel as if you’re insulting me, so I am upset.”

“I am insulting you, but in the best way possible,” Gavin snickered. “Anyway, I’m not mad at Michael, or anything like that. And if we were fighting, it definitely wouldn’t be over you, so don’t flatter yourself like that.”

Jeremy felt his face heat up. “Fuck you,” he said, embarrassed. “I just wanted to help.” Gavin had acted like this once before, he realized, when he had met up with Jeremy during the hunt. He had insulted Jeremy so that he wouldn’t put together that Gavin was the thief. It had almost worked, too, if it hadn’t been for his slip-up. Was he being defensive, just as he had been that time?

“I don’t need your help,” Gavin said sullenly, and something flickered in his eyes before he averted his gaze.

Jeremy smirked. For once, he was pretty sure he knew what was going on. “You know, I don’t know much about anything, but I think Michael really likes you,” he said, placing his hand on Gavin’s shoulder again. “Even when you’re arguing, you can tell he’s happy. I think? But really, you guys are sweet.”

Gavin looked startled for a minute, before he gave a disbelieving smile. “Do you really think that?” he laughed.

“Sure. I mean, before I met you guys, I never thought too much about love, or anything like that, but now I…I think…” Jeremy cut himself off, suddenly very aware of Gavin’s knowing stare. What had he even been about to say? He shuffled his feet nervously. “…it’s nice, I guess.”

He had only been planning to help out Gavin’s insecurities, but now he felt his own tugging at his chest. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about Geoff’s and Jack’s faces leaning close together, mouths split open with laughs, eyes sparkling with a secret Jeremy couldn’t name. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about these sort of things. He had to focus on his current task – to find Ryan and get the mold of the key – but somehow, he felt too hot and too strange, as if there were something sitting on his chest.

“It’s not all good,” Gavin said. “Sometimes it’s shit and people are shit and they tell you that you’re just not worth the trouble and all that.” The words were offhand, but there was something vulnerable in the slump of Gavin’s shoulders, and Jeremy felt a wave of sympathy wash over him.

“Well, whoever said that is an idiot,” Jeremy said, slapping his other hand on Gavin’s other shoulder, so that the king would look down at him. “I mean, look at you – you’re a catch. And I bet the trouble is half of the fun of being with you, right?”

“O-oh,” Gavin said, staring blankly at Jeremy for a minute. Then, he abruptly cleared his throat, and turned his face away. “We should…uh, probably get back,” he said.

They definitely should. Jeremy still had no idea where to actually find Ryan, and he could feel himself starting to panic a bit, so he gave Gavin a nod. As they began to make their way down the stone path, he looked thoughtfully at Gavin. Now that he thought of it, he didn’t actually know what Gavin felt about Ryan in the slightest. As far as he could remember, he had never seen the two interact, or even mention each other.

“Would you happen to know where King Ryan is?” Jeremy asked, not beating around the bush this time. “I need to give him something important, and I really don’t even know how to look for him.”

Gavin gave him a confused look, before his mouth rounded out in realization. “You don’t know what Ryan looks like, do you?” he said.

“Not really.”

“Well, you should know his nose is actually an exact replica of his nob, same size and all.”

“Do you know where he is, or not?” Jeremy pressed, his hands jittering impatiently against his thigh.

Gavin tapped a finger on his chin, his eyes glittering mischievously. “You’re acting rather suspicious tonight, aren’t you, little Jeremy? I do know where he is, but I’ll need something from you in return for telling you.”

“What do you want?” Jeremy asked, dismay settling in his stomach.

Gavin grinned in a way that Jeremy was learning to dread. “Just a small favor. I can collect later.”

Jeremy rubbed at his eyes. “Fine, whatever. Just tell me.”

They entered the ballroom again, and the warmth and noise surrounded them like a blanket. Gavin pointed at a small table at the corner of the hall, almost hidden by one of the boughs of one of the golden trees, where a hunched over, dark figure was sitting alone. “There’s your boy. Tell him I said hi, yeah?” Gavin said.

Jeremy was filled with equal parts terror and relief. “Will do,” he said. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Gavin said, and then he stopped suddenly, so that Jeremy ran straight into his back, whacking his nose.

“What gives?” Jeremy said, irritably. Gavin’s face had gone pale, and Jeremy looked up and followed his gaze. Jack was standing against one of the trees, leaning back with his arms crossed, and his mask held lightly in one of his hands. He stared impassively at Gavin, his glasses reflecting the golden light.

“I thought I heard a weasel nosing around in the bushes,” Jack said, his words like a freezing blade.

The temperature around them seemed to plummet as the two men stared each other now, tension crackling like electricity. Gavin’s face had gone entirely expressionless, and his eyes looked almost black. Jeremy tried to take a step back, but was unable to, and realized that Gavin had his hand wrapped around his arm, so tightly that his blood circulation was getting cut off. Jeremy sighed, and squinted at the unidentified Ryan blob in the distance, willing him to stay still.

“I was just making sure you weren’t filling Geoff’s head with your usual shittery,” Gavin said, voice a low hiss.

Jack regarded Gavin with a cruel tilt of his head. “Jealousy looks bad on you, Gavin,” he said.

Gavin’s expression didn’t change, but Jeremy felt his hand tighten imperceptibly on his arm. He felt a sharp sting of static arc from the hand, and flinched back in pain, but Gavin still didn’t let go.

As he watched the two face off, he felt something uneasy crawl in his stomach. When Gavin and Michael fought, there was still a sort of easy-going atmosphere cut underneath it, like while the two were honest about what they were saying, they still meant nothing too bad by it. This, however, was nothing like that. Back when Jack had first warned Jeremy about Gavin, he had assumed that the reason was because Jack disliked the way he ruled, or something along those lines. But watching this now made him think that the beef between them was something much more personal.

“So, no apology, then?” Gavin asked, voice flat.

“You and I both know that I will never apologize for something that I’m right about.” Jack took a step forward, and even though he was only a few inches taller than Gavin, it was like he was towering over him, and even Jeremy felt himself cower.

“Yeah, I am very aware of what a self-righteous prick you are. I just wish Geoff knew, as well,” Gavin countered, holding his ground.

“I know that Geoff would listen more to someone like me, rather than a simple fool like you,” Jack said.

Gavin’s expression broke, and he reared back as if he had been slapped, his eyes wide and red spots appearing on his cheeks. “I guess you’re right,” he said, looking down at the mask clutched in his hand. “That’s all I am, in the end.” His other hand slipped off Jeremy’s arm and fell limply at his side. Then, he pulled the mask on and stumbled away, his steps unsure and wobbly.

“Jeremy, I’m sorry you had to see that,” Jack said. He had pulled his spectacles off, and his eyes were red-rimmed and slightly wet. His shoulders slumped guiltily. “We bring out the worst in each other, I suppose. I want you to listen to me, just for a little bit. I’d understand if you didn’t want to.”

Jeremy looked at the retreating figure of Gavin, then back up at Jack’s tired eyes. For a minute, he felt himself waver, but then he thought of Jack’s kind smile, illuminated by the thousands of stars in the night sky, and found himself staying put. “I’ll listen,” he decided.

Jack sighed in relief. Then, he slipped his glasses back on, scanning Jeremy with a critical eye. “He didn’t hurt you in any way, did he? Or take advantage of you?”

“Huh? Oh, no. I’m fine. He did kinda force me to go to a festival with him once, but there were these things called fireworks, so it was pretty nice, actually.”

“That’s good.” Jack gave him a quick, tense smile. “But, Jeremy, I want you to understand something. Those people – the kings – they aren’t human. They don’t have hearts beating in their chests like you do. Instead, they have entire countries inside of them. They have to give pieces of themselves to the thousands of people they rule, until there is nothing left of them, and nothing left to give, either. In the end, they are only hollow figureheads.”

Jeremy stared at Jack, shocked. How could he say something like that, especially when he was with Geoff? He felt something hot curl in stomach. He thought of Michael, his expression childlike as Jeremy begged him to live, and of Gavin, his shoulders slumped as he danced around his insecurities, and of Geoff, his eyes warm with gentleness as he helped Jeremy up, and even of Lindsay, the wind catching in her hair as she showed Jeremy to his first home. And, somehow, he found himself shaking his head.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Jeremy said, and Jack’s eyes widened. “I mean, sure, they have more responsibilities and have make decisions that I couldn’t even imagine, but they’re still people, just like us. People that get hurt, or scared, or even fall in love.” He gave Jack a significant look, but the man just steadily returned his gaze.

“All of them?” Jack asked.

_Even Ryan?_

Jeremy had completely forgotten about him. The Mad King couldn’t be human, could he? He was said to have done so many awful things, and Jeremy knew he might do many more. But, as he opened his mouth to amend his statement, a picture appeared in his mind. He remembered that day of the hunt, where Ryan had brushed the hair from Michael’s face, so gently it was if he was afraid he would break under his touch, and Jeremy felt himself hesitate.

“All of them,” he said.

Something like awe flashed in Jack’s eyes, so quickly that Jeremy was sure he’d imagined it. Then, it was gone, and Jack inclined his head. “If you truly believe that, then I won’t fight you,” he said. “I just want you want you to remember what I’ve said here tonight, when the time comes to make a choice.” His smile was bittersweet as he turned and walked away.

Jeremy watched him leave, feeling more confused than ever. Did Jack hate Gavin, or just kings in general? And if he did hate kings, why was he involved with Geoff? Unless, everything he had told Jeremy had been some sort of test? If that was so, Jeremy had definitely answered wrong. And Jack hadn’t even mentioned how Jeremy had been spying on him, even though Jeremy was sure he knew. He shook his head, waving all his thoughts away. He would have plenty of time to think of this sort of thing later. For now, he had to focus on his current task, which was getting more dire by the second.

He looked over to the Ryan blob, but thankfully, the man hadn’t moved, so Jeremy began to make his way over there. As he walked, he made sure his mask was securely on this time. The figure got more and more distinct as he approached, and as the man finally came into view, it took every ounce of Jeremy’s self-control not to turn around and pummel Gavin’s lying face in. The man sitting there couldn’t possibly be the Mad King. There was no way.

The not-Ryan man was sitting rather inelegantly at the table, dressed in black and dark mauves, his mask covering half his face with the visage of a skull, and his dirty blonde hair pulled up in a low ponytail with a black ribbon. He was also – as Geoff did say – stuffing his face with a number of pastries from a plate in front of him, an aura of complete bliss surrounding him like a pink haze. It wasn’t too surprising Jeremy hadn’t noticed him earlier; the man had about as much presence as a doorknob. Jeremy opened his mouth, then closed it. He took a quick look around the area, as if he would find the real Ryan stabbing a kitten behind one of the trees, but he found no one. Well, he could at least try talking to the man. He would find out quickly if it was actually him or not.

“If there is one thing I can respect, it’s a man who knows how to appreciate a good pastry,” Jeremy said, sliding into the bench next to the man. He made his voice a few pitches lower than normal, and added a bit of gravel to it as well, just in case. The man looked up from his food, startled, his eyes wide, and Jeremy bit back his laugh. With his cheeks distended with food and saucer-like eyes, he resembled something like a frightened small animal. Then, the man swallowed sharply and began to choke, curling in on himself.

“Oh, fuck,” Jeremy exclaimed, patting the man’s back. “Shit, are you okay? Do you need a drink?”

The man’s eyes were watering, and the exposed parts of his face were red. “I’m fine,” he wheezed.

“Are you sure?” Jeremy asked, pulling a tankard of ale over. “You could drink this.”

The man wiped at his mouth and cleared his throat a couple times before he eyed the tankard distastefully. “I don’t drink alcohol,” he said.

Now that the man’s voice was clear, and Jeremy had a good look at him, he could tell with absolute certainty that he was truly the Mad King, somehow. And apparently, he didn’t drink alcohol, which was going to make this night a hundred times harder. Jeremy downed the tankard of ale for himself, and tried not to curl up in a ball and give up on life. He was still pretty convinced that this whole night was just one weird, gold-filled fever-dream.

“You should be careful around pastries,” Jeremy said. “They might look innocent, but they’re actually cold-blooded killers.”

Ryan picked up a pastry and regarded it thoughtfully. “I think I might like them more, now, actually.”

Well, that was definitely a more Mad King-like thing to say.

Jeremy drained another tankard of ale for confidence, and plopped himself back down in the seat next to Ryan. He held out a hand. “The names Rim-uh…Rimothy,” he said, realizing half-way through that taking a dead man’s name probably wasn’t the smartest idea. He really should’ve thought this through earlier.

Ryan stared at him for a minute, before carefully taking his hand and shaking it. A small smile crept up on his lips. “Rimothy. That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s a name that’s been passed down for centuries in my family. It has brought many blessings upon us,” Jeremy said. His cheeks felt warm, but anxiety was still pulling at his gut, so he poured himself more ale and sucked it down. “If you take our name in vain, we will rain fire down upon you.”

Ryan’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “I mean no disrespect upon the Rimothy name,” he said. “Where does your clan hail from?”

“Where we hail from?” Jeremy swayed a little bit. “I’ll tell you where we hail from. We hail from a place where it’s considered polite to share a drink with someone you want to get to know.”

Ryan propped his head up on his hand. “Is that so? Well, where I come from, it’s a bit forward to just out and declare your interest like that. Usually we express our intentions through dance. Would you indulge me in something like that?” He held out a gloved hand.

Jeremy squinted suspiciously at him. “You’re a smooth fucker, aren’t you? Alright, I’ll dance with you. Just a warning though, I don’t know how.”

A dance was actually a pretty great idea, now that he thought of it. Maybe he could get Ryan to wear himself out, and need a drink, or something convenient like that.

“That’s fine,” Ryan said, and Jeremy allowed him to take his hand and guide him towards the dance floor. “All that matters is if you have a good lead.”

“You talk big, don’t you,” Jeremy snorted. “Show me what you got, then.”

Ryan led Jeremy to the middle of the dance floor, couples swaying around them with elegant footsteps. Jeremy stood with his arms stark-straight at his sides, and felt more awkward by the second. Ryan was staring at Jeremy rather expectantly, and he didn’t have the slightest idea what he supposed to do, so he just began to clumsily sway back and forth.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked.

“Dancing?”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “I was waiting for you to get into position.”

“Position? Dancing position?”

“Like this,” he said patiently, and raised one hand up to chest, and stretched the other out. Jeremy copied the movement. Ryan grabbed one of his hands, and placed the other underneath his arm, before pulling him close.

Jeremy jolted. “My hands are really sweaty,” he burst out, nervously.

“We’re both wearing gloves,” Ryan pointed out, and began to spin them around gracefully. His grip was warm and steady, and despite everything, Jeremy felt himself actually moving in some sort of semblance of dance, even if he did step on the other man’s toes every once in a while. He felt terribly awkward, however, and didn’t entirely know where he was supposed to look, or say. The music was soft and dream-like, and the moment felt too personal and surreal.

Everything had been working out suspiciously well so far. The king didn’t seem to suspect Jeremy in the slightest, a fact that made Jeremy a bit smug. He couldn’t wait to tell Matt, since he had been pretty sure that Jeremy was going to fail, and shouldn’t even try. _Fuck you, Matt,_ he thought. _I’m the master of disguise._

Just then, there was a high whistling sound from above them, and Jeremy felt his heart drop as he looked up. One of those small lanterns was currently spiraling down towards them, its light increasing in concentration.

“It’s an ingenious bit of magic, isn’t it?” Ryan said, his intense gaze never leaving Jeremy’s eyes. “Supposedly, they can sense whenever someone has something to hide. Do you have a secret?”

The light intensified to a single beam on him, and everything went white. Jeremy blinked a couple times, trying to adjust his vision, and could barely see the dim outline of people gathering around in a tight circle to watch. The light was growing hotter and hotter, so much so that any sweat that cropped up on him was immediately evaporated.

“Me?” Jeremy squeaked, voice hoarse. “No secrets here. What you see if what you get, and all that. I’m sure the light just got the wrong person.”

“If that’s so,” Ryan said coolly. “Then it should be quite simple removing your mask so that the light could move on, and so that you won’t be incinerated.”

Jeremy took a shaky step forward, and the light followed him, ramping up several degrees so that Jeremy felt as if he had stepped near a volcano. Jeremy should’ve seen this coming. It was just a given that things never worked out at this point. He was scorching, and his mind wasn’t working right in the heat.

Well, if he was going to die, he’d much rather be able to see it happening, so he obligingly tore off his mask. The light instantly went out, and the air was blessedly cool around him again. He blinked away the spots from his vision to see Ryan staring at him, his expression unchanged, a benevolent smile on his face. The crowd, seemingly bored with the lack of a reaction, began to disperse.

“You aren’t surprised?” Jeremy asked. He put a hand up to his own face, to check to make sure there wasn’t a smaller mask underneath or anything like that.

Ryan let out a soft snort. “That you aren’t someone actually named Rimothy? Not particularly,” he said. “Besides, you are wearing the mask that I gave you.”

Jeremy stared at Rimulus’ mask in his hands. “That was from you? Why?”

“I quite like the idea of poetic justice,” Ryan shrugged. “I was also curious to see what you would do with it. I am pretty amused with the results.”

“Glad I could entertain you,” Jeremy mumbled. The king was acting pretty friendly around him considering the last time they had talked, Ryan had all but threatened Jeremy. There had to be more going on under the surface here, he was sure. But mask or no, Jeremy still had to go through with his plan, even if it did make things potentially more dangerous. The biggest issue was going to be how to get the king to trust him enough to drink something Jeremy gave him.

Jeremy still felt quite hot, so he made his way towards one of the open doors at the edge of the ballroom, and to his surprise, Ryan followed along.

A flash of green caught his eye, and Jeremy turned to see Michael and Gavin dancing together off in the distance. ‘Dancing’ was a loose word, as it was more like Michael being tugged around by overexcited Gavin, but they were both laughing, and it seemed genuine. Michael’s warriors were surrounding them as they danced, cheering and crying with exaggerated movements. One of the sobbing warriors stepped forward and swept the two kings up in his muscled grasp, and spun them around like a windmill.

 _Guess they made up,_ Jeremy thought, smiling softly. He steadfastly ignored the bitter twist in his chest at the sight of the two smiling together. Ryan followed his gaze. “They’re an interesting couple, aren’t they?” he asked.

“Interesting?” Jeremy echoed. He watched as the warrior tripped and spilled the two kings to the floor. Even with the distance, Jeremy could tell Michael was yelling, but Gavin was laughing too much to care, almost curling in on himself, and eventually Michael gave in and started laughing again as well. “More like I’ll never understand them.”

“On the contrary, I think they’re quite easy to understand,” Ryan said, crossing his arms. “Both of them like to put on a show, after all.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “And you?” he asked, a note of sarcasm in his voice.

Ryan’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve always been fond of the theatre,” he said.

“I can tell,” Jeremy said, rolling his eyes.

Ryan laughed, and there was something almost childlike in the sound, catching Jeremy off-guard.

Jeremy decided to make his way outside in the cool night, making sure to snag two goblets of water on his way out. Ryan thankfully continued to follow after him, a small smile still on his face. All he needed to do was say something to distract Ryan while he spiked the drink, and he had a pretty good idea of what would work.

“You ever been in love?” he asked casually, after they made a fair way down the path.

The effect was immediate. Ryan’s head whipped around, so fast that his ponytail whacked himself in the face. He spat the hair out of his mouth, and coughed, recomposing himself. “Why would you ask something like that?” he said, his eyes darting around.

 _Because it will catch you off-guard, just like this,_ Jeremy thought.

“Well, with the way you were handling that pastry, it seems like you would know your way around a lover,” Jeremy said.

Ryan laughed again, but the sound was a bit more forced. “Something like that…I haven’t thought about much.”

Jeremy made a high, whistling sound and picked up one of the lanterns sound he could shine it down on Ryan. “Oh no!” he said. “Looks like one of those lanterns are here! You must have something to hide. It can sense your secrets.”

“Ha, ha,” Ryan said dryly. “Look, Jeremy, someone like me doesn’t have the capacity to love. I’m sure you of all people could at least understand that.”

The two of them came to a stop in front of one of Geoff’s ridiculous statues. This one featured Geoff with the most outlandish abdominal muscles Jeremy had ever seen – even compared to Michael’s warriors – and lifting up several different people and animals up on his massive arms. As Ryan looked up to sneer at Geoff’s hopefully exaggerated dick size, Jeremy slipped the potion into the goblet on his left.

“I don’t think I do understand,” Jeremy said. “You talk as if you don’t have a heart.”

“Perhaps I don’t,” Ryan said sullenly, and something in the way he said it struck a chord in Jeremy, and he couldn’t help but remember his previous conversation with Jack.

“Well, let me check, then,” he said, and ducked down to press his ear to Ryan’s chest. The king went stiff, but sure enough, Jeremy heard the steady beating of his heart. “Aha! Found it!” he announced. For some reason, relief flooded him. Maybe Jack really was wrong, then.

Suddenly, Ryan’s heartbeat increased dramatically, and Jeremy stumbled back, alarmed. The king’s face was pink, and his eyes were wide. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, waving his hands around. “That was weird, wasn’t it?”

Ryan averted his gaze and turned around mechanically. “Well, what about you, then?” he asked, voice a bit higher. “Since you talk so highly of love, you must’ve experienced much of it yourself.”

Jeremy scratched at his head, a bit nervous now that the conversation had turned towards him. “I did have a few lovers here and there, but nothing too serious, I suppose,” Jeremy admitted. “There was just always something more important to think about.” He had spent so much of his life just worrying about survival that he couldn’t quite shake that way of thinking, even after living in Lindsay’s kingdom for a while. Besides, the idea of being in a more long-lasting relationship never appealed too much to Jeremy. He was pretty sure tonight was the most he had ever thought about love in the first place, for whatever reason.

“Like fishing?” Ryan asked, smirking.

“Exactly!” Jeremy exclaimed. “My fish would always get jealous whenever I was with someone else, so it made things hard. They were really high-maintenance, those slippery little fuckers.”

Ryan was laughing again, and Jeremy knew that the timing was perfect. It was now or never.

“How about I propose a non-alcoholic toast?” Jeremy announced, pulling out the two goblets and offering the one on the left to Ryan. “To those with working hearts.”

Ryan regarded Jeremy thoughtfully for a moment, then took the goblet and raised it. “To our suspiciously beating hearts,” he said, and clinked his drink with Jeremy’s.

They drank, and Jeremy tried to not stare too intently at Ryan. As he finished his drink, he looked up at Jeremy, and his mouth pulled into a frown. Jeremy swallowed, waiting. There was a beat of silence, and Ryan’s eyebrows pulled together.

“Perhaps I should rescind that statement,” Ryan said quietly. “I believe only one of us here has a heart.” Then, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to a heap on the ground, his goblet scattering away.

“Holy shit,” Jeremy said, kneeling down next to the fallen king. His breathing had evened out and his eyes were closed. “Holy shit! I actually did it.” He waved a hand in front of Ryan’s closed eyes and snapped his fingers a few times, but he only continued to breathe peacefully. Elated, Jeremy began to pat around Ryan’s pants, searching for the key. He found it rather quickly, clipped to the man’s belt in a ring. There were two keys on the ring – one squat and silver, and one long and bronze. He pressed them both into the mold, hoping Matt would figure it out on his own.

As he stood to leave, he found himself hesitating, guilt tugging at him. Ryan’s body looked rather pathetic on the ground, like a used handkerchief someone had thrown away, and even statue Geoff’s dick seemed to point judgmentally at Jeremy.

“Like I’m the one without a heart,” Jeremy said, picking up the fallen goblet. “You’re the person that’s trying to enslave the whole world, or some shit.” He wasn’t entirely sure if he was speaking to himself, Ryan, or Geoff’s kingly package, but the worlds felt hollow nonetheless.

He took a single step forward, then groaned loudly. Before he could regret it, he turned around and scooped Ryan up. He was lighter than he would’ve thought – or maybe Jeremy was just stronger now – so it was easy to maneuver him on one of the stone benches. It was rather cold out too, and Ryan seemed pale, so Jeremy pulled off his cloak and draped it around him, making sure to tuck it around his body. There. He looked more like something out of a fairy tale story now, instead of a piece of discarded trash. For a minute, his fingers lingered towards Ryan’s mask, curiosity thrumming through him, but he pulled his hand away. If there was one thing he could understand, it was when people wanted to keep parts of themselves hidden from the rest of the world.

Feeling a little better, Jeremy shot off. He quickly made his way around the outside of the ballroom, towards a crop of trees that Matt had promised to wait by. Matt was indeed there, thankfully, his arms wrapped around himself and shivering lightly.

“I got it,” Jeremy said, breathing heavily as he came to a stop. “I actually did it.”

Matt’s eyes were wide. “Shit. Good job.”

Jeremy handed over the mold and Matt tucked it away, giving him a quick nod.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Better for you to keep an eye on the Mad King, and make sure he stays away.”

Jeremy bit his lip nervously. “If something happens…” he started.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Matt said dismissively.

“But if something does happen…” Jeremy continued.

Matt cut him off by placing both of his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders. “I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “If you keep expecting the worst, then the worst will happen. I got this. Just wait for me in the usual spot, and I’ll be there soon, bringing good news.”

Jeremy swallowed hard. “Okay.”

Matt reached into Jeremy’s pocket and pulled out that redstone heart he had made for Jeremy previously, and pressed it into his hands. It was still warm, and pulsed a comforting red glow. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised, and turned to disappear in the night.

Jeremy watched him go, and tried not to remember the last time he had seen Trevor, and how similar it felt to this.

As Jeremy walked back into the ballroom, an uneasy feeling trickled down his neck. Something was wrong. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was, but every single hair on his body was standing straight up at attention, and it felt as if his nerves were on fire. Then, as he came to a stop, he realized - it was the music. It had become twisted and strange, as if it was playing backwards. The notes were frantic and demonic, like the chords were fighting against themselves. He shivered, resisting the urge to cover his ears.

“Jeremy?”

Jeremy whirled around, his heart pounding sickeningly in his chest. He knew that voice, knew it with every fiber of his being, had heard in his nightmares every single night for the past week. It was Trevor.

“Trevor?” he asked, desperately, spinning around to locate the voice. “I’m here, Trevor! Where are you?”

He looked all around him, and realized with a start that every single person had stopped dancing, and were not moving at all. Instead, they were turned to stare directly at Jeremy, their masks grinning at him in an unmoving sea of wood and paint.

“Trevor?” Jeremy asked again, his voice more unsure. He took several steps forward, and the masks turned silently to watch him.

“Have you given up on us already?”

This time it was Mica’s voice, and Jeremy twisted around sprinted towards where he heard it from, but saw nothing but hundreds upon hundreds of unblinking, watching people. He felt dizzy suddenly, and his stomach felt nauseous, anxiety curling inside of him. This was wrong. Something had gone wrong.

“Are you going to betray us?”

Trevor’s voice was closer now, almost right above his ear, and Jeremy stumbled backwards. He could see Trevor now, tall and unmoving, wearing a simple, featureless mask of white.

“Trevor, what’s going on?” Jeremy asked. The people around him were stepping closer, now, and the lights above him were growing brighter and brighter, spinning down towards him.

“You’ll have to make a choice,” Trevor said.

Jeremy rushed forward and pulled his mask off, and everything went black.

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy opened his eyes. He was on a cold, stone floor, and every single part of him ached. He tried to stand up, but realized he was unable to, as his hands and legs were tied tightly together.

What the hell had happened?

He pulled his face off the floor, and tried to take in his surroundings. He immediately noticed Matt’s redstone heart was lying next to him, but it had gone grey and cold, and as Jeremy watched, it slowly crumpled into dust. He took in the rest of the surroundings and noticed that he was in a storeroom, the one that they had used to have their spy meetings. But Jeremy was not alone. There were two figures standing by the door watching him, both wearing masks, and both horrifyingly familiar.

The woman stepped forward and bent down to kneel next to him. Her eyes regarded him pityingly through the slats in her fox mask. “I did warn you,” Meg said. “But you had to go ahead and make yourself a more valuable piece.”

The second figure inclined his head, and slowly raised a hand to pull his mask off. It was the mask of wolf, and Jeremy knew he was the man Jeremy had seen watching him earlier. As Jeremy stared at the man’s bare face, he felt his heart drop.

“I am so sorry,” Adam said, his eyes shining with regret. There was a sharp pain at the back of Jeremy’s head, and then he saw nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory disclaimer: I love Meg and Adam tons, and I'm not making them into straight out villains, or anything like that lol.  
> Thank you for reading <33


	10. Ensnaring Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, this was a very tough chapter for me to write. I'm not really used to writing serious or emotional things, so this chapter was a bit out of my comfort zone. I hope it turned out alright ;;  
> ....enjoy???

_“I have a surprise for you.”_

_Lindsay strode ahead, her loose hair dancing behind her as she turned around to flash a sly smile at Jeremy. The air was warm and dry around them, but Jeremy felt horribly cold as he stood frozen in place, his eyes wide._ She figured it out, _he thought, hands starting to sweat._ She knows what I am.

_But Lindsay was still smiling, swaying back and forth excitedly on her feet. “Close your eyes,” she said._

_Jeremy licked his lips, his eyes darting around nervously. There were villagers wandering around, hefting large bundles of wood and stone, flashing hopeful glances Lindsay’s way. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, signaling that the day was coming towards an end. Jeremy turned his attention back to Lindsay, and she gave him an encouraging nod. Slowly, with his hands pressed tightly together so that they wouldn’t tremble, he closed his eyes._

_He felt vulnerable suddenly, with his eyes closed, and everything around him in sharpened in quality: the rustle of wind through his hair, the hot sunlight beating down into his scalp, the sound of laughter and construction. Then, something cold pressed into his palms, and his eyes shot open._

_Cradled in his scarred, calloused hands was a small, silver key, glinting in the dying sunlight. Jeremy looked up, confused. Lindsay was grinning, an aura of smugness surrounding her. “What is this for?” he asked._

_“Oh, nothing much,” Lindsay said, whistling innocently. “Just your brand new fucking house.” She gave a dramatic spin and held her arms out to motion towards the small, stone building they had been standing in front of._

_Jeremy blinked at her, then at the house. “I don’t understand.”_

_“Well, I was a bit tired of seeing you sleep in the cathedral. I thought you deserved your own place,” Lindsay said. She leaned back casually against one of the window ledges, and, with a dull, creaking sound, it broke loose, clattering to the floor. “That was supposed to happen,” she said, picking up the piece of wood and tossing it into the open window. There was a loud shattering sound from inside the house, and she winced. “That was also supposed to happen.”_

_Jeremy stared blankly at her, at a complete loss for words. “I don’t…deserve this,” he said. “I haven’t done anything for you.”_

_“You’ve done plenty,” Lindsay reassured him._

_“But…someone like me…I can’t…The type of person I am - I was - doesn’t deserve…” he trailed off, not entirely sure what he was about to say._

_Lindsay’s smile faded, replaced with something like concern and confusion. “Jeremy…who did you used to be, before the thieving?”_

_“Who I…used to be?” Jeremy froze, his limbs locking in terror as his eyes grew wide. And suddenly, the peaceful blue of the sky bled away to a sickly yellow, and he could see fire everywhere, licking up the sides of the buildings and filling the air with thick black smoke. People were running, screams ripped from their throats as they tripped and tumbled to the ground because they were never fast enough. And there was a man, the smile on his face sickening and bright as Jeremy brought down the rock again and again and again until the smile was broken and there was nothing but red, but he was too late, he was always too late-_

_“Jeremy? Jeremy!”_

_His vision clipped back, and he realized that he had somehow ended up on the floor. Lindsay was kneeling next to him, her brows drawn together in concern, her hands on either of her shoulders._ She’s worried about me, _he realized, and the thought stuck strangely in his throat._

_“I’m so sorry,” Lindsay said. “I shouldn’t have asked you.” Her hands on him were warm, and he realized he couldn’t even remember the last time he was touched in a gentle way like that._

_“You’re fine,” he said quickly, because he couldn’t bear the thought of making her upset over something like him. “I just tripped, that’s all.”_

_“…I see,” she said. Jeremy can tell by the look in her eye that she wasn’t convinced, but she helped him stand up without saying anything, and he felt relief flood him._

_Lindsay took the key out of his hands and unlocked the door for him, ushering him inside. The room was barely furnished, and there was glass scattered all over the floor, but warm sunlight filtered in through the open windows, and there were flowers sitting pots everywhere, splashing the room in bright pops of color. As Lindsay moved forward to sheepishly kick aside the glass with her boot, he was pretty sure it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen._

_“How about we make a bit of a loan, then?” Lindsay asked, something serious in her gaze. “Just keep watching over me, and we can consider it even. How about it? You have my back?”_

_Jeremy smiled at her, and plucked one of the flowers to tuck it behind her ear. “Always,” he promised._

 

* * *

 

 

When he slowly came to, everything was black.

It took him a few bleary seconds to realize why that was – there was a cloth tied over his eyes, blindfolding him. His arms and legs were tied tightly together, and he felt the world bump methodically underneath him with a small clattering sound, as if he were riding on a carriage. He ached all over, as if every single one of muscles had been stretched and snapped back into form again.

 The realization of how he ended up like this hit him like a slap, and he felt exhausted suddenly. He let the strange vulnerability of his lack of sight embrace him, the blackness as comforting as it was terrifying.

“Shit. They’ve already located us. How is that possible?” Someone shouted next to him, and their voice was deep and unfamiliar.

“You didn’t hurt him, did you? The more stress you put on him, the more his bond will react,” another unfamiliar voice called out from behind him.

“I didn’t touch him!” the first voice protested.

“Then they must be using that sight. We have to get him to the shop – the lantern will block out their influence.”

“Wait a second.” Jeremy felt a hand pull at his jaw. “He’s awake. No wonder.”

“Quick, then! Put him out,” someone yelled.

There was another sharp pain, and Jeremy slipped away again.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin let out a long yawn as he watched Michael pace back and forth. He picked up another pillow and rolled it in his pathway, hoping he would trip, but Michael easily stepped over it, even as his eyes were distant and clouded over with concentration. He pouted, disappointed.

“As fun as this is to watch, you might end up wearing a hole in the floor,” Gavin said, stretching out languidly in the bed. He pulled the sheets up to his chin and snuggled deeper into the pile of blankets, reveling in the warmth in his cocoon as a shield against the chilly outside air.

Suddenly, Michael came to an abrupt stop, his eyes wide and his face pale. Gavin felt something too – that small kernel of warmth he had come to associate with Jeremy had grown cold, and dimmed yet again. The Jeremy nugget in his chest had grown stronger after last night, a fact that embarrassed him more than anything. He wasn’t too keen on explaining that to Michael, or Ryan – gods forbid – so he schooled his expression into something neutral and inquisitive as he waited for Michael to speak.

“Fuck,” Michael spat, swaying a bit. “I saw him for a minute before they put him out again. They were on a road of some sort, but it wasn’t enough to pinpoint anything. I can tell he’s still in the city, at least.”

“Well, that’s good,” Gavin said encouragingly. Michael’s face remained stormy, and he started up his frantic pacing again.

 “You shouldn’t worry so much,” Gavin said in a reasonable tone. “If they wanted to kill him, they would’ve done it already.”

Michael stopped, and whirled around to glare at him. “Stop pretending like you give a fuck. Didn’t you spout all that bullshit yesterday about wanting to protect him? Some help you were.”

Gavin pursed his lips, a bit irritated. He had actually kept a pretty close eye on Jeremy last night, but after he went off with Ryan, he had assumed the other man would take over the job. But, next thing he knew, Michael was on the floor, and Ryan was returning alone. He didn’t particularly suspect Ryan, especially after the man had made such a fuss about giving Jeremy a second chance, but it was strange how he refused to actually tell any of them what had gone down between the two of them last night. Gavin knew that it was easy to get Ryan angry – at least, for him it was – but it was usually, a hot-tempered, exasperated type of anger. Last night, he had been cold, and shut off entirely. It was odd, to say the least, but more than that - thrilling. Gavin didn’t know what Jeremy could have said to piss off Ryan, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

“Fuck this,” Michael finally said, and spun towards the door. “I’m just going to go look for him myself.”

Gavin vaulted out of bed so he could pull him back. “Are you insane?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Michael’s torso and yanking him backwards. “What are you going to do, knock on every door in the city until you find him?”

“Maybe,” Michael said sullenly, going limp in his arms. He let Gavin guide him back to the bed, where he collapsed with a groan. “I should’ve never dragged him into all of this.”

“You didn’t drag him,” Gavin said, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “He agreed out of his own will.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he really understood what it all meant,” Michael pointed out.

Gavin could definitely agree with that. He had a feeling that Jeremy didn’t understand a singular thing that ever happened to him, really. He thought of how Jeremy was last night out in that courtyard, his eyes shining with realization, and his grin smug, as if he thought he had Gavin all figured out.

In reality, though, he didn’t know a damn thing.

“He’ll understand soon enough,” Gavin said, and his lips curved up into an excited smile.

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy came to consciousness again, somehow feeling worse than before. Pain stabbed behind his eyes, his throat was cracked and dry, and his arms ached like hell.

He groaned and peeled his eyelids open, squinting as his vision adjusted itself. He was in a small, cluttered room, sitting on a shabby wooden chair with rope tying him tightly down. Baskets lined the walls, stuffed with various types of plants and mushrooms and animal body parts. A large cauldron full of some effervescent blue liquid was gurgling quietly next to him.

 Despite the situation, a delighted smile grew on his face. He must be in an alchemy shop. He had always had an interest in alchemy, but ingredients and the potion stations needed to make the potions were more than rare, especially in the small towns Jeremy had lived in. The only access to potions Jeremy ever had were the occasional brews that Larry was able to –

His thoughts trailed off, giving way to confusion. Had he…thought that before? He felt strange suddenly, as if his mind were overlapping itself. His headache seemed to triple in strength, throbbing painfully behind his eyes. Before he could get a grasp on why he felt that a way, a man in dark clothing shouldered his way through the door, and Jeremy immediately stiffened.

“You’re awake,” Adam noted, pulling off his hood. His eyes were red-rimmed and heavy with exhaustion as he studied Jeremy. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything? I brought you some ale.” He unearthed a tankard from inside his cloak and offered it forward.

“I want to be fucking untied, what do you think I want?” Jeremy croaked, wiggling angrily in his chair. Adam sadly put down the tankard. “I would also like the ale, though,” Jeremy added.

Adam obligingly tipped the tankard into Jeremy’s mouth and let him drink. Jeremy felt marginally better; warmth settled in his stomach and his headache loosened.

“You gonna explain what’s going on?” Jeremy asked, after he finished the drink.

Adam stepped back and shuffled around in place. “Um…I can’t entirely tell you, but you have to trust me when I say it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Not bad?” Jeremy exclaimed. “I’m currently tied up with rope to a chair after two of my supposed friends kidnapped me. And I got knocked out! Twice!”

Adam sheepishly pulled at his beard. “Yeah…I guess it is pretty bad, huh.”

“How did you even do it?” Jeremy asked. “And when?”

He wasn’t entirely sure where he could draw the line between dream and reality last night: every single thing that happened had been strange enough to be unreal.

“Blow dart to the neck,” Meg said, melting from the shadows. Jeremy nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t even noticed her entering. She held a small, black tube between her fingers, and she gave it a small tap. “It was after you spoke with you friend, when you were alone.”

Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. That meant he had given the key to Matt. If Matt got what they needed, then it didn’t matter what happened to him here.

“Also, it would be best to not insult the only people currently keeping you alive,” Meg said smoothly, her steps graceful as a feline as she approached Jeremy.

“Keeping me alive? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jeremy asked, watching nervously as Meg nimbly flipped a dagger around.

“It means that not everyone that’s on our side is on your side,” Meg said. “And there’s a lot of people who would do anything to see a king dead.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened in fear. So it was true, then, that Adam was betraying Michael. He had hoped that he had somehow misunderstood the situation, but there was no way he could do that anymore. Jeremy had been stupid enough to tell Adam about his bond with Michael, placing him in this situation. He couldn’t help but think about how Adam had given him that second chance in the trials, and how he had saved him during the hunt, and all of the drinks they had shared together. How much of that had been a lie?

But then again, wasn’t he doing the same thing that Jeremy was? Being betrayed by a betrayer; maybe Jeremy deserved something like that. But even it made him the worst kind of hypocrite, he couldn’t help the anger that rose up in him. It was Michael, after all.

 “You told them about me. Why? Weren’t you the one who was spouting all that nonsense about loyalty? Was that all a lie?” Jeremy asked, his eyes narrowed in accusation.

Adam flinched guiltily. “I am loyal, just not to Michael. But I still respect him, and I don’t want him dead.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Jeremy said, words dripping with vitriol. “Who are you loyal to, then? Is it King Ryan?”

Meg raised a questioning brow. “The Mad King? Not particularly. The man we serve is someone you are already acquainted with, and you will see him again soon.”

Jeremy’s face twisted up in a sneer. “Well, whoever he is, he can eat shit for all I care.”

“He just wants to talk to you,” Adam said, voice weak. Meg came up to stand next to Adam, and Jeremy realized they were both wearing identical clasps pinned on their cloaks: a silver and white insignia of a starburst.

“Talk with me?” Jeremy let out a bitter laugh. “What kind of person kidnaps the guy they want to talk to?”

“One that knows how dangerous you are,” Meg said, her eyes sliding to his right arm. “And how dangerous your companions are.”

“And how dire the situation is,” Adam added. “We are running out of time, and he only wished to…isolate you from everything until it was safe.”

“Time can bite me,” Jeremy said, feeling quite unreasonable. Then, his brows furrowed. “But wait…dangerous? Me? Do you know about my-?” He wiggled his right arm.

“Of course we do,” Meg giggled. “Why else would we have been keeping such a close eye on you?”

“Sorry about the Thunderdome,” Adam said. “It was a bit of a test, to see if you were worthy to wield that power. Thankfully, you were willing to carry it.”

“What the actual fuck?” Jeremy’s headache had returned full force, almost feeling like his skull was about to split in two. “What are you talking about?”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing you still can’t remember, then, even now?” he said, a note of confusion in his voice. “Our leader is the one who gifted you that power, in this very place. Shouldn’t the effects of the potion have worn off by now?” Meg put a hand on Adam’s shoulder and gave him a reprimanding look.

Jeremy’s breath caught in his throat. “I’ve…been here before?” There was something hazy spreading in his mind, something that slipped away as soon as he would reach out to grab on to it. He saw a few blurry pictures: a dancing purple light, cold, familiar eyes, his own hands, clutched together in determination. But then, they were gone, leaving Jeremy with only a larger headache.

Meg gave him a sympathetic look, and pulled out a handkerchief to dab away the sweat beading on his brow. “I think I understand the type of person you are, now,” she said, voice soft. “But you have to confront these things eventually.” Adam shot her a baffled look, and she shook her head minutely.

“Confront…?” Jeremy’s heart was pounding so hard that he felt sick, and he slumped forward in the chair, his head hanging down.

There was a fluttering of wings, and a crow burst through one of the small windows to come landing on Meg’s arm. She studied the bird for a long moment, her brows furrowed in concentration, then let out a long sigh.

“Shit. Adam, I need to go take care of this,” she said, tucking her dagger back in its sheathe. “Will you be okay on your own for a bit?”

“Uh…yeah. I’ll be fine,” Adam said, not looking fine in the slightest.

“I’ll be quick,” she promised. Then, she turned to Jeremy. “You know, I can see why the kings are so intrigued by you. The way you treated me while I was in disguise was something I don’t really see often. I hope there are no hard feelings between us.”

Jeremy let out a weak, humorless laugh, his head still bowed down. “Nah, there’s no hard feelings. Sometimes you gotta pretend to be close to someone so you can knock them out. Trust me, I get it.”

He had no right to be angry. In the end, he was just the same as these people.

“There’s no pretending, here,” Meg said, giving him a fond smile. Then, she gave Adam a final nod and disappeared up the staircase. Adam watched her leave, his fidgeting increasing as they lapsed into silence for several long minutes.

“Matt,” Jeremy said after a while, and Adam jolted nervously.

“I’m sorry?” Adam said.

“Matt. Trevor. Mica. My friends. Where the hell are they?” Jeremy said, voice thick.

“Your friends?” Adam pulled nervously on his beard. “If you’re talking about the godling, we did wait for him in your meeting place – guy like him would’ve been helpful - but he never showed up. As for the other two, I don’t know what happened to them, I swear.”

There was tight panic building in Jeremy’s throat, and he tried his best to shove it down, but it continued to claw its way up, like hot bile. _Matt said he’d be fine,_ Jeremy told himself. _I can believe in him._ But his breath was still coming shorter and shorter, and his vision was starting to shake. He was supposed to keep an eye on Ryan for Matt, but he had ended up passing out before he could do that. What if the king had woken up, and caught on to what was happening? Jeremy needed to get back to him, quickly.

Then, something occurred to him. How the hell did Adam even know Matt was a godling in the first place, or where they were meeting up? The only way he could’ve known is if Matt told him - which was unlikely - or if he was listening in to their conversation that day. Hadn’t Meg said something like they had been watching them? How much did they know? And how?

Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound coming from outside, accompanied by several thumps and shouts of pain. Adam stiffened, and put a hand to his sword. There was a creaking of wood, and the slamming of a door opening, followed by many, heavy footsteps. Adam drew his sword and stepped in front of Jeremy.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Feral King’s lapdog,” a voice chuckled, and Jeremy froze as a dozen figures crowded their way down the staircase, all brandishing wicked looking swords and excited smirks. They spread out through the small room, circling around Adam, who edged closer to Jeremy. The man in the center took a step forward and crossed his arms expectantly.

“Blaxton,” Adam acknowledged, his hand tightening on his sword. “I thought you and your men were watching the walls.”

“We were, but surprisingly, walls don’t do too much,” Blaxton said. “So, I thought I might give your team here a visit and run a few experiments on our captive. I didn’t want to miss out on the fun.” He pulled out a curved dagger and ran a finger down it, inspecting it carefully.

“There will be no fun here,” Adam snarled. “Only your blood, if you continue to be so bold.”

Blaxton’s eyes narrowed. “I think you’re the one being a bit too bold. It seems like your little magpie is missing.”

The color drained from Adam’s face. “Meg will be back soon,” he said. “And she has no mercy for those who break his rules, which, if you recall, are to not harm this man.”

“If the bond works as it should, no harm will come to him,” Blaxton said, yawning. “You know, when I signed up with this merry little band, I expected to be getting vengeance against the gluttonous kings that destroyed everything I had, not watching walls and solving petty squabbles. I won’t miss this opportunity.”

“It’s never been like that,” Adam said quickly, but Blaxton snapped his fingers, and Adam kneeled over with a shout of pain. A woman materialized out of invisibility, twisting his arm to wrench his sword out of grasp. With a roar, Adam propelled the two of them backwards, slamming the woman against the wall, where she released him with a shout. Adam scrambled up and dove back for his sword, but Blaxton kicked it out of his reach.

“Take him down!” Blaxton ordered, and all of the other men sprang into action, jumping towards Adam. Adam swung out hard, knocking two men down, but he was quickly overwhelmed by the rest as they held down his arms and began to slowly drag him up the stairs.

“Fuck!” Adam shouted, and his wild eyes locked with Jeremy’s. “Don’t hold back this time!  As long as you don’t think of yourself, then-” He was cut off as a hand slammed over his mouth, silencing him as he was dragged outside. The door crashed closed and Jeremy was left alone with Blaxton and two other men.

 _Don’t hold back?_ Jeremy thought desperately, a fine tremble working its way through his body. Adam was probably referring to Jeremy’s tattoo, but he still didn’t have the slightest idea how to use it. And he couldn’t help but think of Trevor’s warning, from the last time he had seen him. The man that Trevor had been referring to had to be Adam and Meg’s leader, the one that gave Jeremy the power in the first place. If Jeremy activated it again, wouldn’t he just be playing into that mysterious man’s hands? But then Blaxton stepped forward, tossing his dagger between his hands, and Jeremy wasn’t sure if he had the luxury to worry about that.

“So you’re the man that brought a king to his knees,” Blaxton said, stepping closer. “I’m almost curious as to how you were able to do it, but I believe there are more pressing questions at hand.” He pushed his knife against Jeremy’s right arm, humming thoughtfully. The blade was cold as ice, and Jeremy fought back his flinch. “Firstly, I wonder what were to happen if I were to slice off your arm. Would the Feral King’s arm fall off as well, or would he only feel the phantom pain?”

Jeremy swallowed. That was certainly an interesting question. If he wasn’t so fond of his arms he might’ve tried it out for himself, honestly.

“Um…actually,” Jeremy said. “If you cut my arm off four more will grow in its place, so I wouldn’t try that if I were you.”

The man that stood at Blaxton’s right jolted, his eyes wide. “Four whole arms,” he breathed, amazed.

Blaxton threw him a dirty look. “He’s bluffing, obviously,” he said, but the glint in his eyes was unsure, and he removed the knife from Jeremy’s arm.

“In fact, the entire bond works in opposites,” Jeremy babbled, a bit hysterical. He tugged at his bindings, but they stayed steadfast and tight, and his right arm felt like a dead weight. “The nicer you are to me the worse King Michael feels. If you give me a pie he’ll shit himself for like, a month.”

“Should I get a pie?” one of the men asked.

“No pies!” Blaxton yelled, his composure broken as whirled towards Jeremy. “I tire of this now. Prepare yourself, boy.”

With a small brandish, he brought his dagger forward and slit a thin line across Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped him. The wound was shallow, but it stung nonetheless, and it began to lazily ooze red blood onto his shirt. There was a moment of tense silence, and then Jeremy felt it: a warm, golden energy dancing in his chest, flooding towards his wound.

 _Oh no you don’t,_ Jeremy thought, firmly. With all the willpower he possessed he pushed the energy away, shoving it down and away from his injury. At first, it felt as if it would resist, but then it seemed to settle down, and Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. That must be Michael’s energy, then. Blaxton squinted at the wound, and as time ticked by, his frown deepened.

“Perhaps it only copies the pain, then?” he mused.

“Nah, guess it doesn’t work then. You should probably leave and try again later,” Jeremy said, voice weak.

“Or perhaps I just need to up the ante,” Blaxton said, and plunged his dagger in Jeremy’s leg.

For a minute, Jeremy just stared at the dagger embedded in his leg in shock. Then, white hot exploded in him and he let out a string of curses. Blaxton grinned, and reached forward to yank the blade out. The dagger was curved, so it hurt even more coming out, tearing at his muscle, and Jeremy couldn’t help the shout that escaped him. Involuntary tears sprung to his eyes. He felt that energy return again, more insistent this time, but he resolutely pushed it away.

Blaxton watched the wound carefully, and his frown curled into a sneer. “How much more must I hurt you to get to him?” He plunged the dagger in Jeremy’s other leg, and Jeremy’s entire body tensed in pain as he surged forward, the ropes digging into his wrists. “Or…are you protecting him?”

Jeremy let out a rough laugh, his world starting to sway. “If you want to hurt the guy so bad, why don’t you go after him, instead of coming after me like a coward?”

Blaxton gave the dagger a twist, and Jeremy’s vision almost went entirely white. “Do you want to know why I hate him so?” he said, leaning in so that Jeremy could smell his rancid breath. “He took everything from me: my partner, my children, my home, all for his twisted bloodlust. And this is the man you would die for? Is it because you care for him? Or because you don’t value your own life?”

 _Come on,_ Jeremy begged, focusing all of his strength in his right arm. Adam had said that he shouldn’t think of himself, but what was that supposed to mean? What should he think of? He was in a dangerous situation, just like he had been the other two times he had used his power. So why wasn’t it working now?

“This is pointless,” Blaxton said, drawing a sword out of its sheathe. “Perhaps I should just end it.”

Then, Blaxton froze, going stark straight, his eyes rounded out in shock, and Jeremy stiffened as well.  

“What the fuck?” he muttered.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Jeremy saw a flash of gold. There was a woman sitting on the store counter, her legs swinging back and forth as she hummed. Her hair twisted and flowed as if there were wind, even though they were inside and away from the windows. She caught Jeremy’s eye and laughed silently, placing a finger over her lips.

It was Lindsay, and now Jeremy was sure he had already died.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” Blaxton said, and Jeremy turned towards him, alarmed. Blaxton’s pupils were enlarged, and he was staring intently at an empty spot at Jeremy’s right. His lower lip was trembling, and tears and snot were leaking down his face as he started to babble, a string of strange words and hysterical noises.

Jeremy turned to see that his men were acting strange as well, one on them on the floor and rocking back and forth, the other sobbing and rubbing at their arms. The temperature in the room had dropped several degrees, and Jeremy’s vision went hazy, as if there were a mist over his eyes.

Lindsay hopped off the counter and stepped towards him, clutching at her right arm, which was steadily dripping blood. “I have a surprise for you,” she said, swaying back and forth excitedly. “Close your eyes.”

Jeremy stared up at her, amazed, drinking in her warm aura. She was younger, her eyes unlined and skin unscarred, just as she looked that day six years ago. He was struck suddenly by the realization of how much he missed her, and the blow felt more painful than anything Blaxton had done. She watched him expectantly, and a thousand words rose up in his throat, all of the things he wanted to say to her, needed to say. He opened his mouth, but the words got stuck again, like they had on that day, or when he had left her on the docks. Even after all this time, he still didn’t have the courage to say them.

He sighed sadly, and gave his friend one last look, trying to memorize her smile. Then, he slowly closed his eyes.

There was a short silence, then the sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps, and the drawing of a sword. Jeremy tensed, bracing himself, but the blow never came. Instead, he heard shouts of pain, and a strange gurgling noise. Jeremy’s eyes flew open. Lindsay was gone, and there was an unfamiliar man standing in her place, holding a black longsword dripping with blood. Blaxton and his two men were laid out on the floor, the life fading from their eyes. The smell of copper filled the room, and Jeremy felt nauseous, bile rising in his throat.

The man turned to look at him, and Jeremy froze in terror. His eyes were cold and intense, and ringed with shadows, and Jeremy found himself unable to look away.

“Where is she?” Jeremy asked, teeth chattering.

The man looked around, confused, his eyebrows raised. “She?” he asked.

“I need to tell her,” Jeremy said, fighting desperately against his bindings. “I need to tell her something before it’s too late.”

 The man smiled humorlessly and ducked his head. “I’m sorry. It seems my powers have worked on you as well, but it should wear off soon. Regret is a powerful suppressor, and there’s not a man alive that can resist its thrall. Whoever you saw was not here.”

Jeremy tried make sense of his words, but black was edging into his vision and he felt himself sway. “You don’t understand!” Jeremy yelled, nearly frothing at the mouth as he pulled forward, the ropes burning into his skin. “I should have told her that day, but I didn’t. She has to know what I am.”

The man studied Jeremy, his mouth a tight line.

 “I’m going to have to pull this knife out,” he said. “And it’s probably best to do it before I untie you. Prepare yourself.”

“I need to know if she still would’ve given me a home if she knew-”

With one fluid motion, the man yanked out the dagger, and Jeremy let out a sharp hiss. As he spat out a string of curses, the man leaned forward, surveying the bleeding wounds. He frowned.

“They’re deep, and deliberately placed in the femoral artery to instill the most amount of blood loss,” he noted in a clinical tone. “The blades were poisoned as well. If left alone, you will most certainly expire, in no more than approximately three minutes. Even if you did not, the risk of infection is very high.”

Jeremy’s vision was starting to warp and break like a kaleidoscope. There were five of that man now, and all of them bit their lip in concern. Jeremy could hear Lindsay’s laughter, shattered and distorted, echoing from all around him.

“Hey, I’m dying here,” Jeremy said, head lolling to the side as he laughed along with Lindsay. “Please don’t use such big words.”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, and he grabbed either side of Jeremys face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. His hands were freezing, but they felt nice against Jeremy’s heated cheeks. _Those eyes are so blue, and so familiar,_ Jeremy thought, but his mind was hazy and muddled, and he couldn’t quite place why he knew that.

“You need to focus on me, okay?” the man said, tone stern. “Can you do that?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Jeremy giggled. “All of you already have all my attention.”

“I can try to heal you, but I’m not too skilled in that branch of magic, and I’ve never tried it on something so deep before. I think the poison reacted negatively with my spell, causing an unknown adverse reaction in you, and I hesitate to experiment.”

“Well, just give it your best shot, fancy magic man,” Jeremy said. His ears were ringing and his voice sounded strange to him, like it wasn’t coming out of his own mouth. Black was slowly edging into his vision, but he willed it away so he could look at the man in front of him.

The man knelt down and began to focus, his hands glowing dimly as he pressed his hands lightly on Jeremy’s thighs. Jeremy felt a cold rush of energy pool around him, ebbing the pain away. The man’s eyes closed, and a bead of sweat ran down his forehead. Jeremy tilted his head, a bit fascinated. Then, his wounds started to slowly close, knitting together and leaving nothing but a faint pink line behind. The man pulled back and swayed a bit, his face pale.

“I did it,” the man said, staring at his own bloodied hands in amazement.

Lucidity rushed back to Jeremy as the pain edged away, and his vision became clear again. The nausea in his stomach faded, and everything seemed to stabilize around him. He blinked a few times, and stared at the man in front of him as the five figures converged back into one. As he studied the man, something clicked in him, and his blood ran cold. He wasn’t wearing a helm, or a mask, but those piercing eyes were unmistakable.

“Ryan,” Jeremy said, and the man looked up in acknowledgement. “You’re Ryan.”

“Oh?” Ryan raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Are you playing the fool now?”

“Playing the fool?” Jeremy echoed. His head ached horribly, and he couldn’t quite get a grasp on his current situation. _Why the hell was Ryan here?_

“Did you forget last night, just as you hoped I would?” Ryan said, face expressionless. “It’s such a shame. I was waiting to take my mask off for when you took off yours.”

_He remembered._

Jeremy was suddenly extremely aware how he was still tied up and currently at the king’s mercy as he glared down at him. Somehow, the potion must have failed, then, which meant that Jeremy didn’t have much time to live, probably. But he didn’t care about that. All that mattered is if Matt had found what he needed to.

“I did take my mask off,” Jeremy pointed out, voice trembling.

Ryan smirked. “That’s not what I meant.”

Jeremy thought that being able to see Ryan’s face would have made him more human, but it had somehow turned out to be the opposite. He seemed even more intimidating than before, and Jeremy cowered under his freezing gaze.

“How do you...remember?” Jeremy asked.

“Your little plan to lower my defenses was ingenious in its simplicity, and I’ll admit that I was taken for a fool,” Ryan said, his voice low and dangerous. “But you forgot to factor in the type of blood that runs through my veins. I suppose you and I are a bit similar, beyond the masks we wear.”

Jeremy felt as if he were falling, like the ground had been ripped from underneath his feet. All he could hear was the own sickening beat of his own heart, pounding methodically against his chest.

“But we can talk about that later. There are more important questions at hand,” Ryan continued. He leaned down, his arms braced on either side of the chair as he looked Jeremy straight in the eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m sorry?” Jeremy squeaked.

“I asked what you are doing. You knocked out your only protection last night and got yourself promptly captured, putting not only yourself, but Michael in danger as well. And then you let yourself repeatedly get injured, and refused to utilize the bond that could easily save you. Why?”

Red hot anger flared up in Jeremy’s chest, and he leaned forward as far as he could, his nose almost brushing Ryan’s. “That man was trying to kill Michael. If he knew that the bond worked, he would’ve slit my throat, and we would’ve both died.”

“You almost died anyway!” Ryan shot back, his voice raising in volume.

“I was trying my best!” Jeremy shouted. “I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” To his humiliation, he felt hot tears form at the corners of his eyes. He leaned back and turned his head away.

Ryan stared at him impassively. “Then you failed,” he said.

Jeremy’s head jerked up. “Michael’s hurt?”

“Even if you refuse the shared energy to heal, he still feels the pain that’s been inflicted on you,” Ryan explained.

Everything was spinning again, and it was as if Jeremy could still hear Lindsay’s broken laughter in his ears. Of course that was how the bond worked. He remembered how he had felt Michael’s injuries that day from the forest, before he was healed. But he was a damn idiot, and he forgot.

“I hurt him,” Jeremy said, stunned. “I only wanted to help him. I should have never…” He trailed off, his throat feeling thick.

Ryan studied him for a minute, then sighed and leaned forward to cut through the ropes holding Jeremy down. Jeremy’s hands fell limply at his sides. He felt exhausted, his head still twisted, and the smell of blood was sickening. Still, he made a move to stand, but his legs buckled and he fell back into the chair with a thump.

“You should be careful,” Ryan murmured, placing a careful hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “You still lost a lot of blood.”

Jeremy shook him off irritably. “I don’t need your help. I know you’re only here for Michael.”

“Glad we’re on the same page then,” Ryan said, watching as Jeremy stumbled up again and crashed into the wall, sending a basket of mushrooms scattering across the floor. “So I would prefer it if you stopped injuring yourself.”

Jeremy swayed dizzily and knocked into shop counter. “Gods forbid I give him a stubbed toe,” he grumbled.

As he prepared to make his way up the staircase, he gave the store one last thoughtful look. If he was to believe what Adam had told him, then that would mean he had been in this place before, on the first day he had arrived in Achievement City. Could he possibly believe that to be true? He looked at the packed shelves and the plants swaying from the ceiling, now sprayed with red. Ryan stood in the middle of the bodies, kicking distastefully at them, his mouth curled into a sneer. Jeremy wilted, and turned to limp up the stairs. Maybe he didn’t want to remember, anyway.

There were more bodies strewn outside, and Jeremy swayed again, his back hitting the stone wall. There was so much blood that he could barely recognize the corpses as Blaxton’s men, and small lantern flickered purple light across the bloodied stone. The store was connected to some sort of abandoned alleyway, and he could see the market district in the distance. He kept expecting someone to walk down and look to see the carnage, but no one passed by. As Jeremy turned his attention to the grey sky to distract himself from the gore, Ryan stepped outside, slipping black gloves on.

“Is Adam…?” Jeremy asked, rubbing anxiously at the rope burns on his wrists.

“He’s fine,” Ryan said. “I ran into Meg on my way here.”

Jeremy felt a wave of relief hit him, followed by confusion. “You let her go?”

Ryan began to stride forward through the alley, and Jeremy jogged after him, still a bit unsteady on his feet.

“It would be against my best interests if I didn’t,” Ryan said.

Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “Then you are working together.”

Ryan yawned and rubbed at his face.

“You can think that if you want to, though the truth is a bit more complicated than that,” he said, voice heavy with sleep. “Their…leader and I have similar end goals, though our methods conflict a bit at times. Hence me being here today.”

“So you don’t know why I was captured?”

“I have a theory or two. I believe he wanted to stop you from journeying with us today. As to why, I don’t have the slightest clue, and there’s nothing I hate more than being kept in the dark.” His eyes glinted dangerously, and Jeremy suddenly wished Ryan was wearing the helm again so he didn’t have to see such an expression.

“I wasn’t told about a journey,” Jeremy said cautiously.

“It’s nothing too big; just a trip to a nearby town to talk politics with all of kings attending. Your capture derailed it a bit, but now that you’re safe, we will be continuing with that plan quite soon.”

Jeremy gulped as he realized what a strange position he was in. Should he trust Adam, Meg, and their mysterious leader, or the kings that might be very well bent on destroying his home? Honestly, he didn’t like either option, but he also didn’t like the idea of journeying to place that he had been kidnapped to prevent him from going to. Still, Michael and Geoff would be there, so it couldn’t be all that bad, he supposed.  

They made their way out to the market district, which was curiously empty of people. Any person that was still around was scrambling up their goods to duck inside, eyes cast nervously at the storm gathering above. Jeremy shivered, and Ryan irritably shoved a cloak into his hands. He thankfully draped it around himself. The cold was biting – strange for this time of year.

Jeremy found his gaze often wandering to Ryan. It was strange seeing his face bare, and he studied every expression the man made, every twitch of his eyebrows. He was a pretty expressive person, Jeremy realized. It was easy to see the king was currently frustrated with his brows pulled down in irritation, but Jeremy was sure he could’ve figured that out even without seeing his face. Every once in a while, his lips would quirk into a smirk, before curling back into a snarl, as if he were having some sort of internal argument. As they walked towards the castle, Jeremy kept expecting him to bring up what had happened at the ball, but Ryan stayed silent the entire time.

  _If he doesn’t bring it up, neither will I,_ Jeremy decided, even if he was dying of curiosity.

Ryan escorted Jeremy all the way into the castle and back to Jeremy’s room. As Jeremy turned to enter, he put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulders.

“I’m going to get a guard to post at your door,” he said, eyes flashing. “But don’t let anyone in beyond the four of us. Try and get some rest- Michael will come collect you soon.”

Jeremy gave the king one last look. The man really did look exhausted, and Jeremy couldn’t help but remember his carefree laugh from last night. He bit his lip.

“I didn’t…see your face last night,” Jeremy said. “I mean, I still…uh…knocked you out and all, but I didn’t look, at least. I mean, it’s a great face, though. Good job on that, I guess.”

Ryan stared at him for a long minute, and Jeremy shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze. Then, he turned and left without a word, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

 _Well, okay then,_ Jeremy thought. He wasn’t sure what Ryan was thinking about everything, but he was also pretty sure that his bond was the only thing keeping him alive at this point.

He shook his confusion off and limped to his wardrobe, where he quickly changed out of his bloodied clothes and into his riding outfit. He splashed some water on his face, clearing away any grime. There was no time to sit around and wait, as much as he wanted to see Michael - he had to find Matt.

He glanced nervously at his closed door, then headed towards his window and peered outside. It was empty thankfully, and any nearby guards were turned away and looking up at the sky. Jeremy pushed the window open, and carefully vaulted outside, landing in the hedges with a crash. He winced, but no one seemed to be looking his way, so he took off running.

He pulled his hood up and looped his way back into the castle, avoiding any people he could see. It was easy, as it was almost like the party from the other night had drained the populace of their energy. A couple maids gave him a curious look as he scuttled by, but they didn’t look like they could be bothered to question him.

Finally, he made his way inside and into the library. The place was completely abandoned, and almost pitch dark. All of the warm energy that had flowed through the books and shelves was gone, leaving the area cold and dusty, as if had been left alone for years. Jeremy shivered, and carefully stepped his way around the shelves, making sure to watch his back.

When he crept up the stairs to the backroom, his breath caught in his throat. The room had been completely cleared out, and all of the boxes and clutter that had filled it out was gone. Floating alone in the middle of the room was a singular wisp, and as Jeremy gaped at it, it gave a small whistle and twirl, spiraling towards the ground, illuminating a large trapdoor. Jeremy’s heart began to pound, and the wisp gave another spin, urging him closer.

A trapdoor? How long had that been there? It must have been covered up by the clutter, and hidden away underneath. Did Trevor and Mica know about it? He knelt down, and with trembling hands, yanked the door open. It gave easily, and Jeremy peered down into darkness.

“Fuck that,” Jeremy said, and his voice quickly got swallowed up by the blackness. “How dumb do you think I am? I’m a changed man, now.”

The wisp gave a small dance, whistling insistently.

For a minute, Jeremy considered it. There was something hypnotizing in the way the wisp swirled back and forth over the trapdoor’s open maw, and he found himself leaning closer, and _closer_ –

Jeremy scrambled backwards, his heart pounding in his chest. How stupid could he be? Wisps were more of a nuisance than they were a danger, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t led more than a few unwary wanderers to their death.

 Still, it was strange seeing a wisp inside, of all places, and Jeremy had seen quite a few in this storeroom, for whatever reason. As Jeremy watched the bobbing wisp, glowing brighter and brighter, something occurred to him, and his eyes grew wide with realization.

“You’re what’s been watching us,” he said aloud, pointing accusingly at the wisp. It gave a little dance around Jeremy’s head, as if confirming it, and Jeremy groaned. Trevor’s note hadn’t been just nonsense, it had been a warning. And yet Jeremy had refused to notice it, even though the answer had been right in front of him. And now, because of that, the entire mission was compromised.

“Who controls you?” Jeremy muttered, tilting his head. He watched as the wisp painted shapes in the air with its light, forming lazy circles and figure eights. The more he watched, the more it felt as if the shapes were imprinting themselves behind his eyes, even as he blinked to clear them away.  Frustrated, he looked away to rub at his eyes, and then froze as he caught sight of something outside.

It was the edge of an abandoned garden.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

The wisp whirred faster, its movements becoming frantic and agitated.

“Fuck!”

Jeremy took off running, his boots pounding against the wooden floors and his heart throbbing in his throat. He was so stupid, so, so _stupid_ ; how could he have not put the pieces together? The first night that he had met that man, he had been surrounded by wisps, so much so that Jeremy thought him a lich. He slammed the library door open and sprinted out into the hall.

But it couldn’t be him, it _couldn’t_ be.

 He could hear shouting in the distance and guards running, so he unwillingly slowed his pace and adjusted his hood. The yelling increased as he entered the castle’s main hall, and servants were standing to the side, whispering together. Jeremy zeroed in on a familiar dark-haired man who was standing over an overturned table, gesticulating angrily.

“Gus,” Jeremy said, trying to catch his breath as he ran up to the man. The advisor turned to look at him, curious. “I need to ask you something.”

“Oh, hey kid,” Gus said, crossing his arms. “If I were you I’d take a break from the castle for a bit. Apparently, someone’s missing and Ryan’s guards are tearing shit apart. Including my innocent table, what the fuck.” He turned back to broken table and sighed dramatically.

Jeremy gulped, and angled his head down. “Yeah, I’ll…uh…consider that,” he said. “Um, have you seen a guy named Matt? He works for you and I really needed to ask him something about…last night.”

“Is that who’s missing?” Gus asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Then, he shrugged. “Yeah, I know him. He’s that new talented guy, right? I haven’t seen him today, though. Maybe he’s hungover or some shit, I don’t know.”

Jeremy’s hands were trembling, and he pulled them behind his back. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m sick and tired of these guards running around like they own the place,” Gus grumbled.

“There seem to be a few guarding that door,” Jeremy said, injecting as much casualness into his voice as he was able. He lifted a finger to point down the hall towards Ryan’s room, where Matt should have broken into.

Gus followed his gaze, squinting. “Oh, that room? Don’t worry about that, it’s just Jack’s room- he’s the librarian here, if you didn’t know. Don’t ask me why he needs it guarded when he never leav- hey, where are you going?”

Jeremy ran, nearly tripping over himself as he ducked outside and around any watching guards, his breath heaving frantically out of him. The cold air wrapped around him like a vice, and he was nearly knocked over by the buffeting winds, but he pressed forward. His head was spinning wildly, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to sway and quake.

Jack. It was Jack.

Meg and Adam’s leader, the man who had given Jeremy his tattoo, and the one who had been watching them through the wisps. That room was his as well - Jeremy had stupidly assumed that the room was Ryan’s, even though there had been no evidence to support that. And because of it, he had sent Matt on a fool’s errand – the key might have not even worked. So did that mean that the map and the strange secret door had been his as well? Jeremy ran a hand down his face.

The biggest question, then, was what did Jack want?

If Jeremy had to guess - considering what Jack had said to him last night, and what Blaxton had said as well - his goal was to enact revenge on a king, maybe specifically Gavin, since they seemed to have some sort of vendetta against each other. If that was true, then was that why Ryan was working together with him? Were they planning on taking out some, or all of the kings? Then, maybe that explained why Jeremy was still around, and didn’t have his head on a spike. Jack, and maybe Ryan by extension, had assumed that Jeremy was on their side. But then, when Jack questioned him at the ball, Jeremy had sided with the other kings. Perhaps that was when he was deemed disposable. Jeremy snuck a look at his right arm as he stumbled forward, his stomach clenching.

_Don’t give that man anything._

Jeremy reached an abandoned clearing, and he skidded to a stop. He raised his shaking fingers to his lips and blew. It took a couple tries, as his lips were dry and cracked, but eventually he was able to whistle out a few notes. After a few beats, Pudgers came bursting through the bare tree branches and swooped around to land on the ground in front of him. Relieved, Jeremy quickly pulled out a scroll and nub of charcoal and scribbled out a note to slip in the bird’s canister.

“Alright, go and give that to Matt,” he said, chest heaving.

The carrier pigeon didn’t move, and Jeremy felt his heart shutter to a stop.

“Matt. You remember him, right? You sent messages to him before,” Jeremy said, quirking a forced smile.

Pudgers cooed softly, and rustled his feathers.

“So, take the letter already,” Jeremy said, frustration leaking in his tone. The bird just stared at him, and Jeremy’s entire body started to shake. “Take it! What are you waiting for?”

Jeremy felt several bites of cold on his exposed skin, and looked up, surprised. It was snowing – small wisps of white fluttering down from the gloomy sky. He turned his attention back to Pudgers, who was scratching absentmindedly at the dirt, and for a minute he saw a hot flash of red.

“Please, I’m begging you. Take it to Matt,” Jeremy said, his voice rising in hysteria. “I’m sure he’s around. Try looking by food, or something, I’m _sure_ he is – he has to be.”

The pigeon looked up and cooed again, quietly this time.

 “Look, you’re just a fucking bird,” he hissed, taking a menacing step forward. “How would you know he’s gone if you’re not even going to try? He’s not gone. Matt said he’d be fine. He _promised_ me.”

Pudgers still refused to move, and Jeremy’s breath came out faster and faster, misting into giant clouds. “Why won’t you fucking go already? Leave!” His voice cut through the air like a knife, reverberating through the dead trees. “Give it to Matt, or Mica, or Trevor, or anyone! There has to be someone, so why won’t you fucking move?”

The pigeon blinked stupidly at him, and something in Jeremy snapped. With a roar of frustration, he snatched a rock off the ground and shot it at the bird. It glanced off its wing, and Pudgers squawked in pain and took off in the air, its wings flapping frantically. Instantly, horror and regret pulled at Jeremy, and he collapsed to his knees, trembling.

“I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry,” Jeremy whispered, reaching out a hand. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, come back.”

But Pudgers darted away, and Jeremy was left alone. He hugged himself protectively, shivering.

“They all promised me,” he said quietly.

He was completely alone now. Afraid, lost, with nowhere to turn and no one to trust. To help Lindsay, to save his friends, how could he possibly go about doing such a thing? He still didn’t understand anything, and he was only one person.

How could he even think that he would’ve been able to save anyone in the first place? He let Lindsay and Trevor’s words get to his head, and let himself believe that he would be able to help the people he loved. But in the end, he had not changed at all. He was still just a coward: weak, pathetic, and unable to say the words he needed to. His hand drifted to the left side of his chest, and he let out a bitter laugh as he felt the thump of his heart.

 He was still just a fake.

What was he supposed to do now? It was pretty obvious at this point that there wasn’t a point to continue on with their original plan. Trevor, Mica, and Matt were all gone, and Jack – and probably Ryan by extension - already knew everything. The reasons that Jeremy was even alive at this point were vague at best.

They had lost.

His only option now was to return to Lindsay and tell her that he had failed. But even as that thought formed, he found himself squashing it down. No, he could never go back. He’d rather die here than see Lindsay’s face as he explained how he had let her down.

But, gods, did he want to go home.

He closed his eyes, and for a minute he could see it: rolling green hills dotted with brightly colored flowers, the shadows of clouds lazily passing over the swaying grass. Lindsay running forward, her dress rustling behind her as Kdin pursued her with shaking fists, Matt and Mica arguing over some stupid play they had seen, Andy nearly stabbing himself as he forgot how to hold a spear, and Trevor, his obnoxious laughing face peeking over a sheep so he could throw some witty remark.

Jeremy would take a thousand years of boredom if it meant he could see them all again.

 

* * *

 

 

For a while he just sat on the ground, watching as the snow settled on his pale skin. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he barely felt the cold anymore, just the static of his own mind.

“Jeremy!”

A pair of boots entered his vision, then legs as the person knelt down. A warm hand grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up, and Jeremy blinked, sense returning to him like a slap to the face. It was Michael, small snowflakes caught on his hair and eyelashes, eyes rounded out in concern.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked. His eyebrows were pulled together, but there was no anger in his tone. “We need to get inside - You’re going to freeze.” He pulled off his fur coat and draped it around Jeremy, pulling it close over his chest. He grabbed Jeremy’s arms, as if to pull him up, but Jeremy stayed stubbornly in place.

“I’m…fine,” Jeremy got out, teeth chattering. “Just leave me.”

“What are you saying?” Michael said. “I’m not leaving you out here.”

He stared down confusedly at Jeremy, and Jeremy glared back, hoping he could get across with his stare the words he couldn’t yet find the strength to say aloud. But Michael just shook his head.

“Fucking fine,” he groused, and flopped down next to Jeremy. “If you want to turn into a damn icicle that bad, then I guess I will too.”

Jeremy turned to look at him, shocked. Michael settled down, his lips pulled into a pout as he rubbed at his now bare arms. For some reason, as Jeremy stared at the man sitting resolutely next to him with his head tilted up, his throat felt unbearably tight.

He shouldered off Michael’s coat and rearranged it so that it covered the both of them. Michael gave him a grateful look and shuffled in closer so that their sides were pressed up together. He was as hot as a furnace, and Jeremy found himself leaning in more, despite himself.

Michael was always like this, Jeremy realized. Warm, bright, and dazzling, like a barely contained flame. Being around him was as necessary as it was dangerous. Sitting this close to him and leeching his warmth away was only bound to get himself burned, but Jeremy didn’t have the strength to pull away quite yet.

“We were looking for you everywhere,” Michael said, eyes glinting like melted copper. “Ryan had just brought you back, and then you were gone again. We had assumed that they had come back for you.”

 _How did you find me?_ Jeremy wanted to ask. But he felt weak, suddenly, and couldn’t get the words past his lips. He didn’t particularly care for the answer, anyway.

As Jeremy remained silent, more worry bled into Michael’s expression. “Those men,” he started, voice shaking with rage. He seemed to stop himself, and let out a frustrated sigh, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “Those men,” he started again, tone more controlled. “What did they do to you?”

“You already know,” Jeremy said, shoulders slumped.

Michael’s eyes were flickering between glowing red and his normal color, his hands clenched into tight fists. “Did Ryan…kill them all?”

Jeremy thought of Adam and Meg, and the silver clasps at their necks. Should he tell Michael, about the people that had betrayed him, about Jack? But, he found himself hesitating. If Jeremy was the same as them, should he really reveal their intentions? Did it even matter what side he took?

“They’re all dead,” Jeremy said, eyes averted.

Michael’s lips curled into a feral smile. “Well, if there’s one thing I can count on with Ryan, it’s that he at least made them suffer.” Then, he turned back to look at Jeremy, and his gaze turned worried. “You could’ve used the bond to save yourself, but you chose not to. You…I felt it. I felt you dying.”

“I... didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had.”

“ _You_ didn’t do anything,” Michael said, and grasped tightly at Jeremy’s shoulders. “It was all them, those assholes, thinking they could get through to me from you.”

He sounded so sure that for a moment Jeremy hesitated, before shaking his head again. “It’s my fault. I couldn’t protect you,” he said listlessly.

Something hot flared in Michael’s eyes and Jeremy almost fell back, frightened.

“None of this is your fault, understand? If anything, it’s mine, for forcing you into this.”

“You didn’t force me,” Jeremy said, shaking his head. “Saving you…it was the first time I had ever done something like that. So don’t talk as if you regret it.”

For a moment, Michael looked stunned. Then, his gaze softened.

“I’m alive, so how could I regret it?” Michael said, eyes sparkling teasingly, and Jeremy felt a wave of warmth crash over him, shocking him into stillness. Those were the words he had said to Michael, that day in the field.

Suddenly, it was as if he were truly looking at Michael for the first time. He let himself drag his eyes over his face: his warm eyes and ruddy cheeks and lips, red with the cold. His gaze lingered a second too long, and Michael’s eyes snapped to his, burning. Jeremy gulped and averted his eyes, suddenly feeling as if he had made a horrible mistake.

Michael smirked and leaned forward. “You’ll be safe from now on, right?” he said, voice low. 

“It…I can't really promise that,” Jeremy said. But Michael’s eyes were still flaming, and he was leaning in closer until his head was buried in the crook of his neck, his hair brushing Jeremy’s collarbone. Jeremy jolted. He could feel the press of Michael’s nose against a sensitive spot just underneath his jaw, and he fought away the urge to shiver.

 _What is Michael doing_? Jeremy thought frantically. He knew that the warriors were very tactile people, but this was a step beyond anything they had ever done – was way more intimate. Jeremy could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, almost drowning out everything else, and he felt heavy and strange, but not unpleasant.

  _It’s the bond,_ he reasoned. _Messing with my mind._

“Nothing you don’t already want,” Michael said, and his sharp teeth brushed up against Jeremy’s throat, and Jeremy felt his brain short-circuit, all coherent thought leaving him.

“I…um…huh,” was all he could manage to say. Michael made a noise between a pleased hum and a laugh, and the sound reverberated through him.

“I was really worried about you,” Michael said against his neck.

“No need…for  that,” Jeremy said weakly. Gods, this was too much - he had almost died not even an hour ago. His brain was about as mixed up as it could get, and he was pretty sure he’d implode if Michael continued with whatever he was doing.

Michael pulled his head up and faced Jeremy again, pulling up a hand to brush the snow off his face. His fingers left burning trails wherever he touched, and Jeremy couldn’t remember how to breathe. Michael’s face was so close he could see small glints of gold in his eyes and each one of his eyelashes. Jeremy knew that he should pull away, or say something coherent, but for some reason he couldn’t get himself to move. His head felt muddled and confused, and all he could do was clutch almost helplessly at the front of Michael’s tunic, as if to absorb more of his warmth.

“Let us protect you,” he whispered, and his breath ghosted over Jeremy’s lips.

 _Us?_ Jeremy wanted to laugh at that. But before he could articulate any of his thoughts aloud, Michael cupped his chin and pulled him into a kiss.

Jeremy went completely stiff, shock coursing through him like an electric current. Michael’s lips were warm and insistent against his, and his thumb was tight against his jaw. For a minute, Jeremy just floundered, unable to comprehend what was happening. But everywhere Michael touched burned, like he were setting fire to his skin, and Jeremy found himself thinking that he didn’t mind facing the flames, even if it brought himself to ashes. He relaxed, and his hands moved to Michael’s shoulders, and he felt Michael smile against him. Then, Michael bit down on his lower lip and pulled, and sense snapped back into him like a whip.

_Us. Gavin._

Jeremy pushed at Michael’s shoulders, and Michael stumbled backwards a few steps before he caught himself. Jeremy was breathing hard, and the warmth that had been flooding his body because of Michael was sapped away by the chilling air, ice flooding his veins again. He wasn’t sure what expression he had on his face, but as Michael looked at him, his eyes went wide.

“Shit,” Michael said, running a hand through his messy hair. “Have I…misunderstood this?”

_Misunderstood?_

Suddenly, something clicked in Jeremy. He had almost forgotten, but back when he had first came to the castle, Adam had told Michael that Jeremy was in love with him. He bit down his bitter laugh. Knowing what he knew about Adam now, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was done on purpose in some capacity. He wouldn’t be surprised it was, honestly. At this point it felt as if everything happening to him had been manipulated in some way.

So, was that why Michael kissed him then? Because he pitied him? Because he saw the way Jeremy had looked at him? Because he felt he might as well give poor, pathetic Jeremy what he wanted, even though he was with Gavin? Perhaps both Gavin and Michael were laughing at him together as he floundered in front of them. He couldn’t help but remember Gavin’s cruel smile from last night.

_‘Don’t flatter yourself.’_

He felt something bitter twist in his stomach. Jack had said before that Gavin thought of people as playthings, but now he realized he was wrong – it wasn’t just Gavin that thought that way, it was all of them. To everyone in this castle, Jeremy had been nothing but an amusement, a way to pass the time, nothing more. It felt as if he were back in that ball back again, surrounded by fake people in their leering masks, twisting and pulling and manipulating and lying. They were all the same- all of the kings, Jack, those sneering nobles, Meg and Adam, even himself.

He was sick of it all.

Jeremy huddled in on himself, shivering. Michael’s coat laid abandoned besides him, a dusting of white slowly covering it up. He was cold, and humiliated, and his useless heart wouldn’t stop pounding in his chest. He looked back up at Michael, who was puffing out misty clouds of breath, his cheeks red.

“You did misunderstand,” Jeremy said. His voice was strangely apathetic compared to the storm in his mind. “I’ve never felt that way.”

If it was the truth, why did he feel so strange saying it?

Michael took another step back. “Ah,” he said. He let out laugh, but it sounded forced. “Fuck, I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable, or anything like that. Adam said…and Gavin…and I thought - shit.” He rubbed at his neck.

Jeremy said nothing, afraid of what might come out if he did open his mouth.

“Um…I guess I’ll leave you then,” Michael said, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “We’re leaving in an hour; I’m sure Ryan’s told you already. So…uh, be ready for that, I guess.” He turned around and jerkily walked off, his steps dragging a bit through the thin layer of fresh snow.

Jeremy watched him leave. He felt strangely hollow, as if his insides had been scooped out.

 _It’s better this way,_ he thought.

Alone on the ground, he let the cold settle into his bones.

 

* * *

 

 

“Jeremy! You’re okay!”

Gavin flung himself forward and swung his arms around Jeremy’s torso, clinging to him like a limpet.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Jeremy said blankly, and turned back to lift another bag onto the cart, Gavin still clinging to him. The cart was to carry all of their provisions for their travel, but since the trip wouldn’t last more than a few days, they weren’t packing much.

Gavin detached himself and turned his attention to Buttercup, who was waiting patiently by Jeremy’s side. He ran a hand through the warg’s fur and Buttercup responded happily in return, jumping up and down and waving his tail overjoyously.

“So Ryan was the one to steal all the glory, huh?” Gavin said casually. “I didn’t even realize he was looking for you, but he went and found you before any of us even had a clue. I wonder how.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully and narrowed his eyes at the man in question, who was currently ordering some of his men in the distance, his figure blurry in the falling snow.

Jeremy ignored him, and loaded another crate.

Gavin’s mouth pulled down into a frown, and he pushed himself around Jeremy to lean against the cart, effectively blocking his path.

“Ryan as the white knight,” Gavin said, his gaze sharp. “How romantic. Did you fall in love as he saved you?”

Jeremy blinked vacantly at him, and picked up another crate.

“Would you have fallen in love with me if I had saved you?” Gavin persisted.

“No,” Jeremy said, and roughly shouldered him out of the way so he could pack the last crate.

Gavin’s frown deepened. “Well, you’re no fun today,” he huffed. Then, his gaze wandered over to Michael, who was stiffly sharpening his sword, throwing awkward glances over to the two of them every once in a while. Gavin’s eyes glinted. “Actually, I take that back,” he said. He wandered away, humming happily to himself.

 _At least someone’s having a good time,_ Jeremy thought bitterly. He turned away from the cart and led Buttercup off to the side.

“What the hell am I doing anymore?” he muttered absently, and Buttercup gave a small whine, tilting his head curiously.

He couldn’t go home, and he couldn’t stay here. There was no place left for him now – the only thing tying him here was his bond to Michael. He had decided to go on this trip on the condition that during one of the three days he would ask Michael to dissolve to bond, as soon as he found the courage. Then, he would run out to the woods, and live among the shadows – a life that he deserved all along. Something like him was never meant to have a home in the first place.

With a sigh, he pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders, and shook off any snow that had gathered there before mounting the warg. Everyone else was doing the same, Michael mounting his beast, Gavin alighting on his griffon, and Geoff and Ryan mounting their horses along with their men. As Geoff nodded, the strange party began to make their way towards the gate, snow whistling around them.

But before they could leave, there was the sound of muffled clattering of hooves. They all turned to see a singular figure riding towards them, their white cloak billowing behind them. As the rider came closer, Jeremy froze in shock.

Geoff let out a cry of delight and vaulted off his horse, running towards the rider. The man descended from his horse as well and caught up to Geoff midway, swinging him up into an embrace.

“Jack!” Geoff said, grinning wildly. “I thought you told me you couldn’t make it.”

Jack smiled warmly. “Well, some things came up, and my plans changed,” he said, and his gaze slid to Jeremy.

“I’m so glad you’re coming,” Geoff sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “Three days without you would’ve been shit.”

When Jack didn’t respond, his eyebrows furrowed, and he followed Jack’s gaze. “Oh! This is Jeremy – he’s one of Michael’s new warriors.”

Jack stepped closer to Jeremy, his boots crunching quietly in the snow. Two of his wisps were spinning around his head, casting him in a soft blue light, and reflecting off the silver and white clasp at his throat.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jeremy,” he said softly, and held a hand out. “I’m sure we’ll find plenty to talk about.”

His smile was gentle, but his eyes were radiating determination. The wisps went still, and focused their light on Jeremy, burning so bright that he had to avert his eyes.

“I suppose we will,” Jeremy said, and took Jack’s hand.


	11. Bewitching Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry updates have been so erratic lately! I've recently gone through a big move, so life's been a bit hectic. Things have finally settled down though (kinda?) so I hope I can be more consistent. Also! I learned how to link things (maybe?) so here is my [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwotityQknhnbctdWx504iompahywb9SV) for this story
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Snow fluttered around them, condensing heavier and heavier as the sun crept lower in the grey, cloudy sky. The dead trees creaked and swayed in the chilling wind, and the light blanket of snow crunched softly underfoot as their miscellaneous party moved forward. Ryan took a deep breath of the frigid air and smiled.

He loved the cold.

It wasn’t just because it reminded him of home, though that certainly played a part in it. Home: with its endless peaked mountains and lifeless ridges and hardy forests – a land of eternal winter. Most people there despised the perpetual cold and snow and ice, but Ryan had always found solace in it.

Spending the summer here had been strange; something about the heat made his thoughts feel bizarre and heavy, as if everything were melding together. But the cold made him feel alive. It sharpened his senses and tightened his thoughts. For the first time in months, he felt like himself again.

It would’ve have been a peaceful moment, had it not been for the two people currently arguing in front of him, their voices piercing incessantly through the quiet grove. He watched as Michael threw up his arms and let out an incoherent shout, and Gavin answered with his own indignant squawk, his griffon’s wings flapping frantically in response. Ryan sighed loudly and rubbed at his eyes, willing a headache away.

“Look, I realize that I’m an awful person here,” Michael yelled, his face red. “But you’re worse than I am for encouraging this in the first place.”

“What? I’m worse?” Gavin exclaimed. “I didn’t do anything!”

“You did everything! I should have never listened to you, what the fuck. You just wanted to see all of this happen in the first place, didn’t you?”

“See all-? What? Are you really blaming me for you mucking everything up?”

Michael’s face was turning an interesting color, so Ryan nudged his horse and plodded forward, effectively cutting between them. Instantly, the rage melted away from Michael’s face, and his expression became wary, and a bit ashamed. Gavin’s face, however, lit up with joy, and his griffon gave a few excited hops.

“Hello there Ryan!” he chirped happily. “Get bored riding by yourself?”

“Just wondering if I could be bothered about what you two are fighting about,” Ryan said, adjusting his gloves carefully.

Gavin grinned, and leaned in towards him in a conspiring way. “Well, if you really want to know, turns out Michael made a move on little Jeremy over there. And, he got rejected.” He wiggled his eyebrows around.

“Did you really have to fucking tell him,” Michael said weakly.

Ryan’s hands tightened imperceptibly on his reigns, and he whipped around to look at Jeremy. The man in question was riding near Geoff and Jack, his warg trailing slowly behind them, as he looked blankly at the ground, eyes wide and unblinking. His shoulders were slumped, and his skin looked sallow.

“When did this happen?” Ryan asked.

“Just a short while ago, before we left,” Gavin informed, eyes glittering.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “You mean right after he got kidnapped?”

Michael flushed and turned away. “Look, I get alright? I was fucking stupid and impulsive. I was just really happy he was okay, and I thought…fuck.” He covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. “I’m the worst,” he mumbled, voice muffled.

While Gavin patted Michael’s back in a misguided attempt to comfort him, Ryan trailed behind again, attempting to collect his thoughts _._

 _So, foolhardy Michael has finally barreled forward with his feelings,_ he thought. It wasn’t entirely surprising – anyone with eyes could see he was a bit enamored with Jeremy after that fateful day of the hunt. It also wasn’t surprising that Jeremy hadn’t returned his feelings. Both of them liked to assume things, and both of them had guessed wrong. He couldn’t help the little vindictive smile that rose to his lips. Hopefully, Michael would now get over his little crush, and they could return to how they were before.

“I just think it’s strange,” Gavin said, his head trapped under Michael’s arm. “I honestly did think he had a thing for you, yeah? And you know how I am about those sorts of things.”

“I know!” Michael snapped. “That’s why I made the dumb mistake of listening to you. But Jeremy’s fucking disgusted with me now – you should’ve seen his face.”

Ryan gave Gavin a contemplative look. His eyes were sparkling mischievously, and Ryan let out a silent sigh. He caught Gavin’s eye and gave him a mock chastising look, shaking his head slowly in a scolding way. Gavin threw a kiss back, before schooling his expression into something apprehensive as Michael pulled his head up from his pout.

 “Are you sure?” Gavin asked. “He looks so down now. D’ya think he regrets it?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Ryan said, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he kept his gaze on Gavin. “He has the look of a man that’s lost everything.”

Michael and Gavin paused in their half-hearted wrestling to look up at Ryan with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Michael asked.

“It’s a look I’m quite familiar with,” Ryan said, smirking.

Gavin frowned. “Ryan, you’re being creepy again,” he said in a reprimanding tone.

“I am not,” Ryan said, offended.

Michael’s hands were tightened into fists as he stared anxiously at Jeremy, looking as if he were three seconds away from hurtling himself at the other man. “I wish I could go say something, but I’m sure I’m the last person he’d want to see,” Michael said, biting his lip worriedly.

“I could go cheer him up!” Gavin offered, waving his hand around. Michael and Ryan turned to give him identical baleful looks, and he withered under their stares. “I’m a jester, you know? It’s my job to make people happy. Look – I even made a Jeremy puppet.” He reached into his satchel and pulled it out, brandishing it proudly. Ryan couldn’t help his wince – it bore an eerie resemblance to the man, down to the hair and the ratty clothes he usually wore.

“Oh gods, another one of those creepy things?” Michael groaned. “Please tell me you burned that one of me like I told you to.”

“Nope!” Gavin excitedly pulled a second marionette out of his bag, this one bearing a likeness to Michael. He leaned down and gave the puppet’s face a small kiss with an exaggerated smooching noise.

Michael’s mouth dropped open in comical horror. “What the fuck, that’s disgusting. Give me that – you’re defacing me,” he cried, and reached across Ryan to grab the puppet. Gavin easily maneuvered out of his way, clutching the puppets closer to his body.

“Oh! Where is puppet Michael touching now? How scandalous,” Gavin crooned.

With a roar of frustration, Michael launched himself at Gavin. Unfortunately, because Ryan had been riding between the two of them, he was caught up in Michael’s leap, and the three of them tumbled to the snow with a hard crash, a pile of entangled limbs and upturned snow. There was a boot in his face, a hand suspiciously grabbing his ass, and a puppet sitting triumphantly on his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder what his advisors would think if they saw their esteemed, all-powerful king like this.

“Gavin! Come here so I can bash your face in,” Michael growled, and scrambled over Ryan’s chest, elbowing him straight in the crotch. While Ryan doubled over in pain, Gavin untangled himself and ducked behind him defensively.

“Ryan, you have to protect me!” he cried, leaning away from the looming Michael.

Ryan looked thoughtfully between the two of them, then scooped up some snow and shoved it unceremoniously down Gavin’s tunic.

Gavin screeched like a wounded animal and shot up, patting frantically at his back while Michael nearly fell over laughing.

As Gavin danced away in a strange display of flapping limbs and horrified yelps, Michael turned to Ryan. “Thanks, Ry,” he said. His cheeks dimpled in a warm smile, and for a minute Ryan swore he saw the dazzling sun. Then he was gone again, chasing after Gavin, his warg and Gavin’s griffon bounding after them.

Ryan loved the cold. But as he stared at Gavin and Michael running around in circles in the distance, he felt as if he didn’t mind the warmth much, either. He supposed that even if he were to return to his home of eternal winter, there would always be a part of him that longed for summer.

As he stood up and brushed the snow off his clothes, he noticed a black lump half buried in the snow. He bent down and scooped it up, and realized it was Gavin’s marionette of Jeremy. Ryan rolled his eyes and dusted the white off it, revealing that the puppet’s arm was missing. He cursed under his breath and bent over to scan the floor, but the broken arm was nowhere to be found. Instead, he nervously stuck a twig in the puppet’s armhole, hoping Gavin wouldn’t notice.

He held the puppet up, and its soulless black wooden eyes seemed to stare straight at him as it dangled limply in his grasp. He frowned, and turned to look at the flesh and bone Jeremy. He had come to a stop to wait for the rest of them, and his eyes seemed just as empty as he gazed vacantly out into the distance. Something in Ryan’s chest twisted, and pulled himself back up on his horse, who had been obediently waiting at his side.

Before he could question his own intentions, he nudged his horse in Jeremy’s direction. The man didn’t look up as he approached, but the beast he was riding snapped its head in his direction and let out a loud warning growl.

Then, Jeremy began to tip to the side.

Ryan’s eyes widened and he shot forward, snapping at his reigns to pick up speed. His horse skidded to a stop, and he reached him just in time; scooping up Jeremy just before he fell to the side. He sat the man on his horse with him, his heart pounding wildly. Geoff and Jack rode back, expressions filled with concern.

“Holy fuck,” Geoff exclaimed. “Did he-?”

Ryan pulled open Jeremy’s eyelid, lips pursed thoughtfully. “Passed out,” he said. “Fell straight asleep.”

“While riding?” Geoff said dubiously. “Is that even possible?”

“He’s had a long day,” Ryan said, and gave Jack a significant look.

Jack returned his look steadily. “I can hold him, if you want,” he said, extending his arms.

Ryan’s mouth curled into a sneer. “I’m fine.”

“What the fuck just happened?”

They all turned to see Michael rushing towards them, nearly stumbling over himself in his haste as he tore through the freshly fallen snow. There were red spots on his cheeks, and his hair was tousled and wild. He shouldered past Geoff and leaned up to look at Jeremy, his eyes wide. He raised a hand, as if to touch Jeremy’s cheek, but hesitated, his eyebrows raised high in distress, and put his hand down again.

“He’s fine,” Ryan said patiently. “Just tired.”

Michael rubbed anxiously at his face. “We should have never brought him,” he said.

“We didn’t have a choice,” Geoff said, oddly serious. He looked tired suddenly, and a bit old, as the wind and snow buffeted around him, leeching his skin of color.

Jack shook his head. “There’s always another choice,” he said.

“Of course there is,” Ryan said smoothly. “Doesn’t make it viable, however.”

“Perhaps it would seem so to the closed-minded,” Jack said. His eyes flashed behind his glasses, and his head tilted up as he gave a friendly smile. Geoff looked between the two of them, an eyebrow raised in confusion, but Jack gave his horse a pat and trotted away, and Geoff followed unsurely behind him.

Ryan turned to the attention to the slumped man in his arms. He tilted his head as he gave a quick survey of his appearance: there were dark shadows under his eyes, and his breathing was shallow and stuttered, as if he were trapped in a nightmare. His skin was horribly pale, so much so that he could see the blue from his veins underneath, and Ryan found himself frowning deeper.

In his life, Ryan had quickly learned that to stay alive, you always had to expect the worst out of people, no matter how harmless they may seem. But Jeremy was a bit more complicated than that. When he had expected the worst, instead Jeremy had done something honorable, and almost heroic. And, when he had stupidly expected something good, Jeremy had turned and ground his hopes into the floor. Ryan had been betrayed before, so much so that he was sure the metaphorical labyrinth of scars on his back would never completely heal. But somehow, he couldn’t quite forget the way Jeremy’s eyes had shone that night under the stars, and he felt the knife in his back twist deeper.

From a scientific perspective, Jeremy was an unpredictable element, which possibly explained Gavin’s rather worrying fascination. Ryan didn’t even want to think about how many times he and Jack had come back to the lab to find the place overflowing with some strange concoction because Gavin couldn’t quite keep his hands to himself. However, Ryan had always treated elements he did not understand with the upmost of caution.

Admittedly, Ryan had been a bit impressed when he had learned Jeremy had tricked him on that day of the hunt. With his wide eyes and flushed cheeks and a straightforward, rather embarrassing way of speaking, Ryan had been completely thrown off. He should’ve realized the man’s danger then, but instead, he had let himself feel intrigued. And of course, it had ended up with him knocked out on a bench. It was more than a bit frustrating, and even more so that Ryan couldn’t quite figure out why it bothered him so much in the first place.

Even so, there was something horribly pathetic about the way he looked now, and Ryan couldn’t help but wonder how he had ended up like that. After he had rescued him, Jeremy seemed fine enough, at least, as fine as someone could be in those sorts of circumstances. He also doubted rejecting Michael put him in such a mood, so what had really happened? He furrowed his brow, and lifted his hand to softly brush the snow that was collecting on Jeremy’s face. There was a small cough, and Ryan turned, shocked, to see that Michael was still watching him, a rather pointed look on his face.

Ryan awkwardly cleared his throat. “He’s going to be fine,” he said, and quickly pulled his horse away.

In the distance, Ryan could see Gavin standing alone, his shoulders stiff and his eyes fixed on Jack. Ryan shook his head wearily and nudged his horse in his direction, trotting up beside the man. Gavin looked up at him, shocked, as Ryan maneuvered Jeremy so that he was sitting on Gavin’s griffon in front on him.

“Your steed is the largest,” Ryan said in way of explanation. Truthfully, he wasn’t entirely fond of the idea of holding onto Jeremy for the rest of the trip. He couldn’t afford to get more distracted now.

Gavin nervously put his hands on Jeremy’s waist as his head lolled around aimlessly. “What if I accidentally kill him?” he whispered, horrified.

“If you managed that, I’d be more impressed than upset. Just pretend you’re his guard, or something.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” Gavin said, his eyes sparkling in the way they usually did when Ryan proposed a game of sorts. He gave Ryan a small salute. “I won’t let you down.”

“Right,” Ryan sighed.

After Michael had wrapped Jeremy in enough blankets that he resembled more a cocoon than a human, and all but tied him to Gavin’s griffon, they made their way forward again. As they did, one of Ryan’s soldiers burst out of the forest, their dark cloak billowing behind them as they skidded to a stop next to him.

“Report.”

The soldier rubbed at his arms, shivering. “Things are odd, sire. Not a single animal or bird in sight, and every outpost has been completely abandoned. Not a solitary thing out of place or moved, either. It’s like they disappeared into thin air, or something like that. We’re missing some of our own as well: Brent and Buckley haven’t been seen in hours.”

Ryan stroked his chin thoughtfully, absorbing this. “Any sign of mob activity?”

“Not yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they started cropping up in this sort of weather. Night’s approaching, and I have a bad feeling about all of this,” the soldier finished, eyes whipping around nervously.

“Dismissed,” Ryan said, and waved the soldier away. He rode forward to Geoff, who was talking in low tones to Jack, and relayed the news to him as well.

“Fuck,” Geoff said, eying the dark forest surrounding them. “Maybe we should play it safe, then, and stay in one of my outposts for the night.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Jack added. “The weather looks like it's worsening, and it will be certain death if we get caught in it.”

They all looked up at the stormy sky, which was seething in purples and dark greys. The snow was coming in thicker and faster, and the horses – sans Ryan’s, who were bred to be fast in cold weather – were having more trouble pushing forward.

“I guess I’ll go tell the others,” Geoff sighed, and pulled backwards to go meet up with Michael and Gavin.

Ryan was left alone with Jack, who gave him an impassive look, his white cloak whipping gently in the wind.

“You’ve made yourself a powerful enemy,” Ryan said, but his voice wasn’t as threatening as he hoped. As Jack gazed at him, all he could think about was the first day that they had met, the day that tore the ground out from under his feet. He could still remember exactly how Jack looked on that fateful day: eyes sparkling like stars, cheeks red with excitement, hand outstretched and those words tumbling from lips.

_‘I can save you.’_

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Ryan rode ahead, ignoring him, and let the biting cold wind wrap around him like a comforting vice.

Even now, he still couldn’t quite find his footing.

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy came to consciousness feeling as if he were sitting in a fire.

He felt limbs wrapped around him, constricting his movement, and for a slow minute his sleep-addled brain thought that he must be back in Michael’s barracks, trapped with his warriors again. But his eyes fluttered open, and he immediately knew that he was wrong.

He was in some sort of large pavilion, the ground covered in piles of furs and blankets, and the cloth walls whipping around noisily as the wind whistled outside. A singular lantern sat in the middle of the floor, casting flickering orange shadows across the tent, and illuminating a sleeping man at the entrance.

It was Ryan, Jeremy realized with a start. He was fast asleep and snoring softly, a sheathed sword clutched tightly to his chest, as if he had been on guard. Jeremy’s lip curled, and he looked down to see who was grabbing him. It was a man, thankfully clothed, and draped around him tightly. For a while Jeremy was unable to identify him, as the man’s head was buried in his chest, but then the man turned to mumble some incoherent words, and Jeremy realized that it was Gavin.

His heart jumped violently, and he roughly shoved the man off of him, scrambling away to huddle in the corner of the tent, his arms wrapped protectively around himself. Gavin just let out a soft snuffle and rolled over, tucking himself into a tight ball.

Bitterness tugged at Jeremy’s chest. The two of them were watching over him, making sure he didn’t get any trouble, and put their precious Michael in danger. It was as if he were a little child that couldn’t be trusted to be left alone.

Jeremy supposed he must have fallen asleep somewhere along the road. The last thing he could remember was feeling light-headed and ill as he focused on staying on Buttercup. Geoff had been telling him some story he couldn’t quite pay attention to, but then he left, and he and Jack were laughing together, laughing about Gavin and Michael.

Suddenly, the room felt too constricting and hot, and Jeremy stood up stiffly - his armband felt like fire against his arm, like it was tightening his blood flow. He carefully made his way around the sleeping Gavin and past Ryan, who thankfully didn’t even stir, and out into the night. It was freezing, and the snow still hadn’t slowed down, and Jeremy wished he had thought to bring his cloak. He waited for his vision to adjust, and squinted around him, taking in the bright surroundings.

The tent was set up in some sort of ruin, with giant slabs of worn down stone and pillars covered in dead vines. Massive wood walls surrounded the area in a tight circle, dotted with large, magical lanterns that shot out beams of light that easily pierced through the darkness in the outside wilderness to push away mobs. It was an outpost, Jeremy supposed, which meant that they were unable to finish their journey to the city. He could see another tent, across from the one he came out of, and he wondered if Jack and the other kings were in there.

Jeremy let out a breathy sigh and plopped down on the ground, leaning up against one of the fallen pillars. He watched the snow pelt down in front of the lights, and tried to clear his mind of any thoughts. But no matter how hard he tried, he could only see Michael and Gavin – the two of them dancing together, them huddled close and illuminated by fireworks, or their heads pressed together as they laughed and _laughed_ -

With a frustrated grunt, Jeremy reached up his sleeve and tore off Michael’s armband, throwing it roughly out in the snow. In landed a fair distance away from him, sticking halfway out of a snow bank, the copper glinting against the white. He buried his head in his hands, and rubbed vigorously at his face, trying to bring some warmth to his skin.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. He was such a fucking idiot, thinking about these kinds of things. He remembered Michael’s shy smile as he gave him that armband, and felt something tug in his chest _. A lie_. Everything had been a lie, and Jeremy had been nothing but a pathetic fool to think otherwise.

He felt terribly weak suddenly, as if he had been entirely drained of energy, and when he stood, he wobbled unsteadily, as he took a step back towards the half-buried armband. But before he could reach it, Jeremy saw a flash of blue light in the corner of his eye, and he whipped his head around to see two of Jack’s wisps making their way towards him.

“You fucks again, huh,” Jeremy mumbled as they danced in circles around his head. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

They bobbed up and down, and floated towards the gate to the outpost, pausing to wait for him. Jeremy noticed that the guards there had also fallen asleep, their swords scattered at their sides. Despite everything, Jeremy crept closer, and peered out one of arrow slats. A lone figure stood in the middle of the white light, unmoving and dark.

It was Jack.

The man spun around and caught Jeremy’s eye, and held out a hand, beckoning him. Jeremy swallowed dryly, and glanced back at the warm tents, where the kings were resting, then back at Jack’s shadowy form. His hand clenched into a fist, and he pushed the gate open.

Jeremy had heard stories before, of witches in swamps that used will o’ wisps to draw children into their cabins and away from their parents, so they could stew them and suck the marrow from their bones. Of course, tales like that had been nothing but nonsense meant to scare kids to not wander too far, as witches were relatively peaceful creatures. But as Jeremy took Jack’s warm hand, and let himself be pulled deeper into the woods, the wisps dancing in triumphant circles around their heads, he couldn’t help but feel if there was some sort of truth to those words. He felt strange and heavy, like he was under a trance, and there was something addicting about the warmth in Jack’s hand.

After Jack had led them a small distance from the outpost, but still in the radius of the light, he let go of Jeremy’s hand and motioned upwards. Jeremy obediently looked up. Between the dead branches, there was a break in the stormy clouds, exposing a bit of dark sky like a slash of a knife. And, sitting in the middle of the exposed sky, was a single, red star, bloated and dim. It was the star Jack had pointed out to him the first night they had met, Jeremy realized.

“It’s gotten bigger,” Jeremy noted, tilting his head.

Jack nodded, and behind his glasses his eyes were wide with excitement. “That’s because this week it shall be closer to our world than it ever has been before. Close enough that our two realities will brush up against each other - coexist, in a sense.” Jack steepled his hands, and meshed his fingers together. “It is called The End.”

The end? Jeremy suddenly recalled that map that had been in Jack’s room. Hadn’t it said the same thing?

“The end of what?” Jeremy asked. Jack turned to look at him, and the light reflected brightly off his glasses, so that Jeremy couldn’t quite see his eyes.

“The End of nothing. Or perhaps, The End of everything,” Jack said, his voice a low, contemplative hush. “But, finally, all the work I’ve done over the years will come to fruition. I can show all of those people that they were wrong all along, and that I was _right._ Jeremy, you said you’d come with me, did you not? We can go there, together.”

Jeremy’s throat was uncomfortably dry, and he took a careful step back. “I don’t understand,” he said weakly.

Jack nodded shortly. “You’re right. I’m…getting ahead of myself.” He shook his head, seeming to steady himself. “I don’t have much power left to explain everything, but I need you to understand what my goals are, and what’s going on. Jeremy, I need you to understand that this world is dying.”

“Dying?” Jeremy’s voice was barely a whisper.

“For centuries, we were able to keep a balance – a balance between the common people and the gods, using the kings as a bridge between the mortal and immortal. But recently, that balance has been upset. Something – or someone – dug too deep, pulled at powers that were not meant to be theirs, tried to become a god themselves. And the price for their meddling was steep, and I was forced to take action. Jeremy, at one time, my goals were simple: I wanted to eliminate the kings.”

Jeremy couldn’t quite catch his breath anymore, could only stare wide-eyed at the man in front of him. _Geoff,_ he thought.

“I was pulled from my home, gifted these powers, and turned into a holy avenger of sorts.” His smile was bitter as he lifted his hands, and they spilled out cold light. “I hated the kings, and everything they stood for. I saw them as nothing but tyrants, manipulating and laughing at us smaller people, deciding our entire fates as they saw fit. But then, I met them, and things changed.” Jack looked up, and the light faded from his glasses, and Jeremy could see his eyes again, warm and kind and shining with gentleness. “I don’t want to destroy them anymore. Jeremy, I want to save them.”

Jeremy’s eyes were wide as he took in what Jack was saying.

“Save them from what?” Jeremy asked.

Jack’s expression was serious again. “From themselves,” he said. “From the crowns that weigh heavy on their heads. No one person should be allowed that much power, Jeremy. It can only twist them into what they are not, into monsters. I want to see a world in which all can have a chance to choose their own fate, and govern their own will – a land for everyone. To do that, I must break those shackles, those crowns, so that they can have a chance to live a normal life, a life they deserve.” Jack stepped forward and grabbed both of Jeremy’s hands.

“I love them,” he said, and there was such genuine conviction in his voice that Jeremy felt his stomach lurch. Under Jack’s smile, it was if he were a second away from scattering to ash, a mere shadow under the gaze of the all-encompassing sun. Jeremy ripped his hands out from Jack’s and stumbled backwards a few steps, nearly falling in the snow. He shook his head as Jack took a step forward, and Jack frowned.

“I know it’s possible that you could feel the same,” Jack continued. “That’s why I want you to come with me. The End has the power I need to change this sickly world – we could fix all of this together.”

Jeremy grit his teeth as he felt anger simmer inside of him. “What could I possibly do?” he asked.

“That power given to you is something truly special,” Jack said. “Coupled with that bond with Michael, and you become the ultimate sword and shield. I am no fighter, and I need someone like you to be with me. But you’re not only strong, Jeremy. I’ve been watching you, and you’ve been kind as well, and selfless, ready to give your life for someone you barely know. I know I can trust you.”

For a minute, Jeremy just stared slack-jawed at Jack as he smiled at him. Then, he began to laugh, loudly and cruelly, his voice echoing in the night. Jack’s eyebrows drew together in concern.

“You’ve got me completely wrong,” Jeremy said, grinning. “Do you really think I’m going to let you use me, after all the shit you’ve put my friends through? Whether the kings die, or are saved, I really don’t give a fuck. I’m not doing a thing you want me to, and I don’t believe a word you say.” He leaned in close to Jack, and let his smile drop. “Go fuck yourself,” he hissed.

Jack blinked. “Your friends?” he said, not stepping back from Jeremy.

“Yes, my fucking friends,” Jeremy repeated. His hands were clenched so hard he could feel the bite of nails in his palm. “The people I came with: Trevor, Mica, Matt. They’re missing, or dead, because of you, and your precious king’s twisted games.”

Jack looked away, his lips pressed together as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. “You misunderstand me; we are not enemies. Mica and Trevor were working together with me. Lindsay and my goals have always been the same.”

Jeremy wheeled backwards, stumbling as if he had been slapped. “What are you talking about?” he said.

Jack looked contrite, his eyebrows pulled together. “Lindsay also wished to help save this world, and root out the imbalance, to break the curse that sits on her head – something that Ryan understood as well, sometime later. She sent her smartest and most talented to help me with my research. And she also sent you, the one she trusted the most.”

“I don’t believe you,” Jeremy said, taking another careful step back. “None of this makes sense. We came here because of Ryan, because he was trying to take us over. Lindsay would have told me.”

“Your role to play also required your ignorance,” Jack said, gaze pitying. “I’m sorry if this upsets you - I can try to prove it to you, if you wish. I can also answer any question you have to the best of my ability. I’ve been looking for your missing friends, and I think I know where they are, and why they can’t be contacted. If you come with me, I might be able to take you to them,” Jack said, and held out his hand.

Jeremy looked at his outstretched hand, and couldn’t help the warm hope that jumped in his chest. “You...know where they are?” he asked, voice hushed. “They’re okay?”

“It’s a strong possibility,” Jack said, voice equally as soft. “Just take my hand.”

Jeremy hesitated, staring unsurely in Jack’s eyes. He shouldn’t trust him, Jeremy knew that. He had to be lying; there was no way that he and Lindsay were working together – Jeremy wouldn’t even consider such an outlandish acclaim. Trevor had even warned them about Jack with that note he left, and with his cryptic statements before he disappeared. But if there was even the smallest chance he could find his friends again, he had to take it. He had nothing left to lose at this point.

Jeremy lifted his hand.

“Lightweaver.”

A voice snapped across the clearing like the crack of a whip, and both Jack and Jeremy stepped back, stunned.

“Revealer of truths and desires. Purveyor of justice.”

The voice seemed to echo from around them on all sides. Jeremy looked for the source, baffled and afraid, but Jack was stiff, his head tilted up and his eyes hard.

“Tempter to the weak-willed.”

There was fog rolling in over the snow, thick and grey, obscuring Jeremy’s vision. He blinked, and suddenly there was a man standing behind Jack, dressed in black, and leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“The light that causes the shadow to grow,” he said quietly, and stepped around Jack to stand in front of Jeremy.

It was Ryan.

Jeremy gulped, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified as Ryan tilted his head, regarding Jack.

“Such a god is your patron,” Ryan continued. “And yet, you carry many secrets yourself. How ironic.”

“Your patron is the divulger of regrets and fears, and yet your brow is heavy with your own,” Jack countered smoothly, not flinching from Ryan’s glare.

Ryan’s lip curled. “Did you really expect me to let you carry him away? Did Jeremy feed you a convenient sleep potion, leading you to forget what you pulled yesterday? I never thought you to be the type to kidnap and torture, but perhaps I was misled again.”

“I have no reason to resort to such things, Ryan. I know that you know this,” Jack said, putting his hands up, as if in surrender. “It was a terrible misunderstanding, one orchestrated by Blaxton and his men. They were lusting for blood, more than I anticipated. They tricked Meg and Adam, brought Jeremy away without my knowing, then led Meg off and carried out their torture. I had no idea any of this occurred before it was too late.”

“And yet, it conveniently leads into your desire to keep Jeremy away from us,” Ryan said. “I believe desperate men can do many things out of their character, and you seem pretty determined to take him with you. Why?”

Jack’s composure broke, and he took a step forward, his face reddening. “I’ve never done such things, and I never will. Jeremy and I already have an understanding – I have no need to.”

“Nope, nope,” Jeremy cut in. “There’s no understanding here, sorry.”

Ryan whirled, and Jeremy flinched back as he took on the brunt of his furious glare. “Really now?” Ryan said. “You seemed perfectly content to follow him around like some sort of lost puppy dog. Have you lost all of your senses?”

“I never had any in the first place,” Jeremy muttered darkly.

“I can agree with that,” Ryan snarled, and turned back to Jack. “You are running out of time to explain yourself.”

“There’s nothing left to explain,” Jack insisted. “But you are right, I am running out of time.”

“Nothing left?” Ryan said, voice rising in volume. “Why don’t you start by telling me why _this_ is so important.” He motioned back towards Jeremy.

“Anyone can be important,” Jack said. “It was mere happenstance.”

Energy crackled like thunder in the clearing, and the temperature plummeted, so that the gently falling snow crystallized into hail, pelting down on them. Fog was rolling in thicker, forming billowing clouds that pressed up against the trees, waiting to be released. Jack took a step towards Jeremy, a hand held out protectively, but Ryan stepped forward as well. Suddenly, Jeremy felt as if he were caught between two warring gods: Ryan, in all black, dark fog tugging at his boots, and Jack, in all white, his skin glowing as if there were moonlight trapped inside of him. Ryan grinned, and stepped forward again, and the fog broke free, enveloping them. Suddenly, Jeremy could see nothing but grey, the mist almost pressing against his eyes. He could only feel the small stings of hail against his skin, and the nearby sound of Jack’s breathing.

Then, he heard a familiar woman’s laughter.

Jeremy sunk to his knees, and put his hands over his ears. _No, no, no,_ he thought. _Please, not again._

“Ryan, you need to control your power,” Jack said, his voice calm. “You might attract nearby mobs, and even in this form, I am still susceptible to it.”

“I’ll release it when you explain to me what you’re doing,” Ryan said. “Until then, I hope you suffer.”

“Ryan,” Jack said, a note of desperation in his tone. “My goals haven’t changed; they’re still the same. I’m still helping you.”

The laughter increased, and Jeremy saw the bright glint of gold through the fog.

“How much of what you’ve promised me has been a lie?” Ryan shot back.

Lindsay walked out of the mist, her dress trailing behind her like flames.

“None of it,” Jack said. “I would never lie to you.”

Lindsay tilted her head and smiled expectantly.

“And yet, you lie to me now. How am I to believe you anymore?” Ryan asked.

Suddenly, there was an abrupt silence, cutting into Jeremy like a knife. Was he alone? He whirled to look around him, but all he could see was the encroaching grey, washing everything else out, and Lindsay, swaying back and forth, waiting.

Then, he heard Jack gasp from somewhere near him, sharp and broken.

“Gavin,” Jack whispered, his breath catching as if he were holding back a sob. “I’m so sorry. I should have never asked this much of you. I promise I will fix this. I _promise._ ”

 _Regret,_ Jeremy realized, gaping at Lindsay. So, Jack’s strongest regret was Gavin, then? Ryan’s power was certainly cruel, making you confront the most cowardly and foolish parts of yourself. He wondered if Ryan derived any joy from the misery it caused.

“Enough!”

Jack’s shout cracked through the clearing like an earthquake, and all at once a pulse of white light throbbed from him, dispersing the fog and Lindsay in one fell swoop. Jeremy could see again, and he blinked, looking over Jack, whose chest was heaving, his eyes wet.

For a minute, Jack stood shaking. Then, he stumbled over to Ryan, and pulled him into a tight embrace. Ryan’s eyes went round in shock, his shoulders stiff and mouth open slightly.

“For so long, you have protected everyone,” Jack said firmly. “This time, let me protect you.”

Jack pulled away from Ryan, who was still completely frozen, and turned to look at Jeremy.

“I’ve expended too much power,” he said. “Jeremy, I know you don’t mean what you’ve told me tonight. But no matter what happens, look at all of them with wariness. Use your power, and keep yourself safe. And remember what I told you, that first day we met. I’ll be waiting for you in the castle. I’ll try to-”

He was cut off as a crackling beam of light shot down, and then Jack was gone, his footprints in the snow the only indication he had been there in the first place.

“Jack!” Ryan shouted, and launched forward, but ended up grabbing nothing but air. “Fuck, he was never here. I should’ve known.” He kicked the snow in his frustration.

“Uh,” Jeremy said, too shocked to say much of anything else. It wasn’t every day that you saw a man disappear into thin air.

Ryan whirled to him, his nostrils flaring. “What did he want from you? What was he talking about? What did he tell you the day you first met?”

Jeremy’s head was spinning, and he scrambled back a few steps, the snow soaking through his clothes. “I don’t know, _I don’t know,_ Ryan. I’m just as lost as you are.”

“You are lying, just like him,” Ryan said accusingly.

Red hot rage curled in Jeremy’s chest, and he stood, almost stepping up on his toes so he could glare up at Ryan. “Do you really think you’re in the position to make accusations like that? You’re the most twisted, manipulative fuck out of anyone here.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Am I now? You don’t think I’ve heard that one before, over and over? Brainless, simple-minded people like you, quick to jump to conclusions, and to sort me into their convenient black-and-white narrative so they won’t have to think critically for once?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Jeremy seethed, his entire body shaking with anger. “You’re playing the victim after everything you’ve done? That war, all those people’s lives? Living in your country was hell for them! And even now, you have your fucking army at Lindsay’s border, ready to wipe everything I love out. And to what, satisfy your shitty ego?”

“Really? I wasn’t aware of such a thing. Perhaps I should have a talk with my advisors,” Ryan said dryly. Then, he sighed. “Why would I have any reason to take back that place? That war had been a mistake in the first place.”

“You’re joking, right?” Jeremy spat. His hands were balled into fists, and resisted the urge to shove the king into the snow. “Lindsay saw them herself.”

Ryan tilted his head cruelly. “You know, for someone who seems so against being manipulated, you certainly make it easy on yourself.”

Jeremy could see nothing but red now. “Don’t you _dare_. She’s a hundred times better than you could ever hope to be, you absolute _shithole_.”

“Perhaps so,” Ryan shrugged. “Though, you seem quite fond of placing people on pedestals, so I suppose it’d be hard to compare.”

“I’m not doing that!” Jeremy cried. “Lindsay, she’s the worst. She fucks up constantly, and she literally can’t do a single thing correctly. But she would never lie about something like that. She would never…she would never lie.”

“If you say so,” Ryan said glibly. “Obviously you know much more than I do.”

“You know, I’ve been arrested for many things,” Jeremy said, enunciating each word carefully. “But never regicide. Might be interesting to shake things up.”

“Keep blaming me if you want to,” Ryan said, and leaned in close to give a wicked smile. “I don’t mind playing the villain.”

Suddenly, the lights from the outpost cut out, plunging them into inky darkness. Jeremy blinked owlishly, trying desperately to adjust his vision. His heart began to pound, and as his rage drained away he was able to take stock of how cold he really felt, the still falling hail biting into him.

“Uh, Ryan, you realize I was kidding about the regicide thing, right?” he said, teeth chattering. “I mean, I know you’re really dramatic and all that, but isn’t this a bit much?”

Silence answered him, and Jeremy jerked as he felt something brush up against his sleeve.

“Okay, Ryan, I get it,” Jeremy called out. “You’re super scary and spooky. Please turn the lights back on, now.”

A hand clapped over his mouth, muffling him. Jeremy jumped violently and began to fight against it, when he felt hair brush his cheek, making him freeze.

“Quiet,” Ryan hissed. “I didn’t do this. Listen.”

Jeremy obediently nodded, and the hand slipped from his mouth. But as he stopped to listen, a giant explosion ripped through the sky, shaking the ground around them, and sending Jeremy sprawling in the snow. He looked up to see Ryan’s eyes wide with fear, and reflecting the orange from the explosion. Thick, black smoke rolled in from in between the trees from the direction of the outpost.

“Holy shit,” Jeremy exclaimed. “What was that?”

“A creeper,” Ryan said, and yanked Jeremy to his feet. “We need to go.”

The two of them rushed forward, Jeremy stumbling through the thick snow, branches snagging on his clothes and scratching his skin. The smoke thickened as they approached, and Jeremy pulled up his shirt to cover his mouth. His eyes started to water, and the heat was almost unbearable, the snow around them melting to slush.

“Geoff!” Ryan called out. “Gavin! Michael! Are you okay?”

Jeremy heard a loud groan and the shifting of a shadowy figure through the smoke. Elated, he pushed towards them, coughing and waving the smoke away. The figure was slouched over, as if in pain, and they let out another moan.

“You…okay there buddy?” Jeremy asked nervously, putting a hand out to hold their shoulder.

The figure’s head snapped up and rushed forward suddenly, letting out an inhuman screech. Before Jeremy could brace himself, he was shoved to the ground, hitting the snow with a crash. It was a zombie, he realized in horror, and he could see it on top of him now: mottled, rotting flesh and patches of hair and clothing, and a snapping, drooling jaw.

The zombie’s glazed over eyes stared down at him as it scrabbled with broken nails at his neck, and every single one of Jeremy’s muscles locked into place, and he found himself unable to move. Then, there was a sharp slice of air, and the zombie’s head flew off with a spattering of rancid blood, and landed with a thunk to Jeremy’s side.

“Oh, were you having a moment?” Ryan asked, and pulled the body off of Jeremy, eyeing his bloody sword distastefully. “Perhaps I should’ve left the two of you alone.”

Jeremy didn’t answer, and could only stare in terror at the disembodied head that lay next to him. Its sightless eyes stared back, but Jeremy felt as if those cloudy eyes were staring straight through him, right at his methodically beating heart, thudding against his chest like the mocking bang of a drum. A red drip of blood leaked out of the corner of the monster’s eye, like a macabre tear, and Jeremy watched it fall, his breath stuck in his throat, and his heart beating, beating, _beating_ -

“What the hell are you doing?” Ryan pulled Jeremy up again, and put a warm hand on his chin, facing him away from the zombie. “We need to find the others; can you focus?”

Jeremy swallowed hard and nodded.

“The sound of that explosion is going to lead every mob in the area here,” Ryan said, pulling Jeremy back into the slowly dispersing smoke. “We have to leave soon.”

The smoke had finally cleared enough so that Jeremy could see that the entire gate had been blasted away, leaving a large, gaping hole behind. Fire was catching on the wooden walls, crackling and gaining quickly. There was a singular figure moving around frantically, pulling horses away from the flames, and they looked up as Ryan and Jeremy approached.

“Ryan, Jeremy! Thank the gods,” Geoff called out, his voice hoarse. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I’m not sure,” Ryan answered. “Is everyone okay?”

Geoff stumbled forward, his steps unsure, hefting some sort of large package. But as he got closer, Jeremy realized with a shock that it wasn’t a package, but rather Michael, his eyes closed and his face pinched and pale in Geoff’s arms. Jeremy’s blood went cold.

“Michael,” Ryan breathed, eyes wide with alarm. “What’s wrong with him?”

Geoff bit his lip. “I don’t know. I heard the explosion and I tried to wake him up, but he wouldn’t – I think he has some sort of fever.”

Ryan held his hand up to Michael’s forehead, glowing a soft blue. “This is no natural fever,” he observed. “My powers are useless.”

“What do you mean, not natural? And where the hell is Jack?” Geoff asked, looking around frantically.

“He’s fine,” Ryan said, and turned to give Jeremy a pointed look. “Go get your shit. We’re leaving _now_.”

Jeremy gave Michael one last look and rushed inside his tent. He quickly located his bag and sword and strapped them on, before swinging his cloak over his shoulders. As he stood in the tent, he was struck by the oddest feeling, a feeling that told him he was forgetting something important, and it settled like nausea in his stomach.

 _I have my bag and sword,_ he thought, wiping sweat from his brow. _What else could be missing?_

He shook the sick feeling away and stumbled back outside, where the flames had condensed into a roaring fire, consuming the walls on all sides. Gavin had joined the other kings, and was currently wrestling with his reigns in one hand, and trying to pull an arrow out of his quiver in the other. Buttercup raced towards Jeremy and gave his face a frantic lick.

“Ryan, your men are gone,” Gavin shouted over the crackling of flames. “I think they were the ones that turned out the bloody lights.”

“My men would not betray me,” Ryan yelled back.

“I said, where the fuck is Jack?” Geoff said, stomping his foot.

“And I said he’s fine!” Ryan snarled. “We need to leave before we’re all burned to a crisp.”

 _I’m forgetting something,_ Jeremy thought, spinning around desperately, orange flames dancing wherever he looked _. What am I forgetting?_

“I’m not leaving without him!” Geoff screamed, his face red.

“Michael! Why won’t Michael wake up?” Gavin cried, shaking Michael’s head back and forth. Jeremy stumbled towards them, his eyes wide as he took in the sweat beading on Michael’s brow, and his teeth gritted as if he were in pain.

 _What’s wrong with him?_ Jeremy thought desperately. If he had been injured, wouldn’t he have also felt the pain? And couldn’t his energy help him get better? Or was Jeremy so weak that he couldn’t even help him in that way at all?

“Jack’s fine!” Ryan strode forward and grabbed the sides of Geoff’s face. “Geoff, you have to believe me, okay? Jack is safe.”

Geoff stared at Ryan with wild eyes, then huffed out a sigh. “Gavin?” he asked.

Gavin notched his bow with an arrow, and for a minute, he looked like a stranger, inhuman and aloof with embers whipping past his hair and his eyes reflecting the orange flames like a beast’s. Then, the moment passed, and he gave a strained smile.

“Yes, he’s fine,” Gavin said. “Back in the castle and in a shitty mood as well, to no one’s surprise.”

Ryan nodded and Geoff almost slumped to the ground in relief. Jeremy blinked, feeling as if he missed something important.

“But Michael isn’t,” Gavin said, and his brows furrowed. “I’m going to fly him ahead to the city and find a healer – I’ll meet up with you guys later.”

There was a loud creaking of wood behind them as part of wall broke loose, sending a flaming log crashing through one of the tents, exploding with a plume of fire and ash. The horses reared up in terror and Buttercup gave a horrified howl, but Gavin waved his hand and they all quieted.

“We have to go now,” Gavin said, and dragged Michael up on his griffon, hopping up after him.

“Gavin!” Geoff pushed forward, concern clear on his face. “Be careful.”

Gavin gave a terse nod. “I promise I’ll be fine,” he said.

Jeremy stepped forward as well, stumbling a bit as desperation took hold. He reached out and grabbed one of Gavin’s hands with both of his, and the king paused to look down at him, his eyes wide.

“Take care of him,” Jeremy said, then bit his lip, confused by his own impulse.

Gavin stared at him, his expression unfathomable. Then, he leaned forward, pulling their hands closer to his chest, and gave a strange smile.

“Isn’t it a bit too late to be saying things like that?” Gavin said, tilting his head. His eyes flashed, and he shook off Jeremy’s hands.

 _Too late?_ Jeremy’s heart lurched.

Then, his griffon spread its massive wings and took off into the air, sending out a large gust that fanned the flames. With a roar, the fire increased ten-fold, and another chunk of the wall smashed to the ground, setting a couple trees alight as easily as kindling. Several dark shapes were rushing toward them from beyond the fire, and Jeremy jumped as an arrow embedded itself in the wall by his head.

“Fuck!” Geoff shouted, and drew his sword as he swung himself up on his baying horse. He and Ryan nodded at each other and surged forward to clash with mobs with a ringing echo of metal.

Jeremy watched, his mouth open in awe, as Geoff sliced easily through a zombie’s torso, sending an arc of blood and entrails out around him. The flames danced around him like a glowing halo, and for one absurd moment, Jeremy wished he had time to sit down and paint it. He was suddenly taken back by how much he used to idolize Geoff, and how his dream to fight with the king was the only thing that kept him moving on when he was younger. But as he stared at Geoff striking down enemy after enemy, all he could think of were those zombie’s glassy eyes. Jeremy stared at his trembling hands, and let them fall limply at his sides.

 “Jeremy, come on!” Ryan shouted. “There’s a break in the mobs!”

Buttercup nudged Jeremy’s face, and gave an insistent whine. Jeremy gave the burning camp one last anxious look, and clambered on Buttercup’s back, riding out to join the two kings. Whatever he forgot, it probably wasn’t more important than his own life, anyway.

He followed behind Ryan as the three of them fled into the cold night, quickly leaving the raging fire far behind them. All around him he could see darting black shadows and glowing red eyes, and he felt cold fear grip at his throat.

“We still have three hours to dayb- Fuck!” Geoff ducked with a yelp as an arrow whistled past his head.

“These are your lands, Geoff,” Ryan said, his eyes an unnatural blue as he tucked himself low against his horse. “Is there anywhere we can weather the night?”

“What the fuck, do you think I’ve memorized every single rock, Ryan?” Geoff cried.

“I’m not asking that much!” Ryan shot back. “Is there a cave? A building? A slight fucking indent in the ground?”

“I don’t know! I’m panicking! I want to see Jack.” Geoff sniffled loudly.

As they argued, Jeremy squinted out into the darkness, and when he did, his eyes widened in amazement.

“Wait a minute,” Jeremy said, and the kings turned to look at him. “The mobs aren’t following us anymore.”

They slowed their frantic pace and peered off into the surrounding forest. Geoff let a low whistle.

 Hundreds of mobs were currently making their way in the opposite direction as quickly as they were able: zombies with their staggered, dragging steps, skeletons with stiff, unnatural movements, and spiders with fast, skittering hops. There were animals running among them as well – wolves and wide-eyed deer and rabbits, all rushing past without even looking up.

“It’s as if…they’re running from something,” Ryan observed. “But the fire is in the other direction.”

“Who cares what these idiots are doing?” Geoff exclaimed excitedly. “This is our big break! Let’s get to the city while they’re all running about being stupid. There’s a mushroom forest we can cut through to save a bit of time.”

“I suppose we could,” Ryan said, looking unconvinced. “As long as we don’t eat any of them. They’re poisonous, so we have to be careful around them.”

“I already knew that! What, do you think I’m going to shove my dick into the first mushroom I see?”

“I mean, it’s possible.”

While the two bickering kings rode forward, Jeremy hung back, gaze still locked upon the strange stampede. One of the zombies was knocked over by a pack of wolves, and it fell to the ground with a resounding crack. The animals and mobs continued to hurriedly push forward, trampling the monster into the ground, crushing its limbs and bursting its torso like an overripe tomato. The zombie’s head rolled to the side and caught Jeremy’s eye, shaking as it was stepped on, blood and spittle dribbling from its open mouth.

“You coming, Jeremy?” Geoff asked, and Jeremy’s head snapped back up. Geoff and Ryan were both staring at him; Geoff was looking in confusion, but Ryan’s eyes were with bright with calculation.

Jeremy swallowed and pulled his coat closer around him. “Coming,” he said.

He felt the monster’s gaze follow him as he rode off into night.

 

* * *

 

They rode for several hours after that. Ryan kept a watchful eye out for any approaching mobs, but the woods were completely empty and silent. Though they were moving at a brisk pace, Geoff and Ryan kept talking to each other, their initial squabbling fading into more softer conversation the longer they traveled. Jeremy watched them, his expression dark.

 _So much for hating each other,_ he thought. Instead, they seemed more like an old married couple who couldn’t help but fight.

The tall, dark trees gave way to giant, arching mushrooms that glowed a harsh, unnatural green. Jeremy blinked uncomfortably in the strange, fluorescent light, and unconsciously nudged Buttercup closer to the two kings.

“You should’ve seen their faces when they realized it was the royal prince that was the one that threw rotten eggs down their chimney,” Geoff was saying. He pulled out his canteen to drink a sip of water, and Jeremy noted that his hands were trembling violently.

“I feel as if I could imagine,” Ryan said, chuckling softly.

“What about you, Jeremy?” Geoff asked suddenly, turning back to look at him. “You do any wild shit as a kid?”

Jeremy jumped, shocked at being included in the conversation. “Uh,” he said fretfully, unsure how he could possibly go about answering his question. Ryan’s eyes slid to his, and he smirked.

“He was a simple, to-the-books fishermen’s apprentice,” Ryan said.

 _Is Ryan helping me? Or is he just fanning my lies?_ Jeremy thought.

Geoff’s face lit up. “Really? That’s fucking amazing!” he exclaimed. “Jack and I love fishing; you should take us out one day.”

“That- I mean…” Jeremy stuttered.

“It’s a date,” Geoff declared, beaming. “I know the best place for it too! There’s this beautiful lake a few miles away from the castle, and no one else knows about it. The water is as blue as it gets, and it always has perfect weather, and at night fireflies come out, and you can see all of the stars in the water’s reflection, and Jack-” Geoff trailed off, and the dreamy expression on his face faded. His head drooped, and Jeremy’s complete shock, tears began to roll down his face.

“Geoff?” Ryan said, equally as alarmed.

“Ah, fuck,” Geoff said, wiping roughly at his eyes. “’M not crying. I might have wiped my asshole with a mushroom, and now I’m melting from the inside out.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Ryan said, and awkwardly handed Geoff a pristine handkerchief.

Geoff snatched it from him and loudly blew his nose in it. Then, he looked up at Ryan with large, wet eyes. “We’ll be able to go back there someday, right?” he said.

Ryan looked horribly flustered, his eyes darting around quickly, and his arms held up strangely, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. Jeremy snorted.

“Everything will work out fine,” Ryan said, voice stiff, as if he wasn’t used to saying things like that. “We’ll all go back there soon.”

“Even Jeremy?” Geoff asked innocently.

Jeremy jerked up straight as Ryan turned his attention back to him, his gaze harsh and judgmental.

“I’m not the one you should be asking,” Ryan said.

They continued on in silence, broken up by an occasional sniffle by Geoff. After another hour of riding, they broke through the mushrooms and into a large, dead field, covered in a thin coat of dirty, blackened snow. The absolute silence of the area was smothering – no sound of bugs or rustling of leaves or creaking of branches.

“We’re almost there, so shouldn’t the sun have risen by now?” Geoff asked, looking up at the dark sky.

“Give it another hour,” Ryan said dismissively. “Look, I can even see a bit of orange in the sky.” He pointed over the hill they were cresting, where a sickly orange color was bleeding into the horizon.

“That’s not the east, dumbass,” Geoff said.

“You don’t know that,” Ryan pouted.

Geoff gave Ryan a dry look and turned to Jeremy. “Anyway, you’re going to love this place, Jeremy,” Geoff said, a note of warmth in his tone. “It has some of the most beautiful gardens I’ve ever seen, and the people there know how to have a good time. The taverns there throw some of the wildest parties ever, and the food is something else.”

Geoff continued to anxiously ramble about the city, but Jeremy wasn’t listening to him. Instead, he held out his hand and watched as snow fluttered down to settle on his palm, his brow furrowed. It was pitch black. He took his thumb and pressed it down into his skin, and it easily smudged, leaving a dusty mark.

“Is this…ash?” he wondered aloud.

Ryan whirled to look at him, and Geoff went silent. They both slowly turned their attention to the sky, where small black flecks were gently falling down.

Geoff had gone completely white. “Oh no,” he whispered. He snapped his reigns and rushed forward, his horse quickening to a full sprint.  Ryan and Jeremy followed close behind him, and Jeremy’s heart began to pound as they began to climb the hill. Geoff reached the crest of the hill first, and he came to an abrupt stop. He shakily stepped down from the horse, and fell to his knees in the dark snow.

“I thought we had more time,” Geoff said.

Jeremy and Ryan reached the top of the hill, and Jeremy felt every part of his body shutter to a stop.

In the distance, cradled against the white-capped mountains, the entire city was wreathed in flames – a raging inferno of red fire and dark smoke. Jeremy could see strange, white shapes moving about in the sky, and every once in a while they’d spit out a white fireball to explode down into the streets. The sky above the city was cracked and orange, and dark red clouds gathered and seethed, sending down bright sparks of lightning. In the middle of the city loomed a massive black structure, like a mockery of a castle, and it pulsed a strange purple light.

It was as if hell itself had broken free.

Ryan breathed out a hysterical laugh. “It seems the end has begun,” he said, and slowly drew his sword against the light of the dying sky.                                                                                                              


	12. Grinning Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......anyone remember this story? ;;  
>  I'm so sorry it's such a late update...if I'm being honest, I actually had this chapter written a long time ago, but for some reason I wasn't really happy with it, so I didn't really want to post it. Though, I kinda have a feeling this is one of those chapters I won't be happy with no matter what I change, so oh well. But thank you so much for being patient with this story! There's only about 2-3 chapters left, so I really wanna try and push through to the end. I'll be really sad to let this story go...in a lot of ways it's been like a security blanket to me over these past months. I can't even tell you how many times I've almost gotten in trouble at work for writing down notes for this fic :') Still, I do have my next stories planned, and I've even started writing one of them (oops)...........  
> Well, I hope you enjoy!

“No, no, _no_.”

Geoff’s horse sped forward, upturning half-melted snow and mud underneath its hooves as it tore down the hill. Ryan and Jeremy followed closely behind, Ryan’s mouth still open in a hysterical laugh as he clutched his reigns. Jeremy huddled closer to Buttercup, and he felt the beast tremble underneath him as they rode closer to the end of their world.

“What do we do, Ryan? What the fuck do we do?” Geoff asked, his voice cracking sharply.

Ryan laughed louder. “We’re too late. All that work, for nothing.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Geoff said, pulling a hand roughly through his hair. “We still have time.”

A horrible realization hit Jeremy suddenly as he looked up at Geoff’s panicked eyes. He remembered Geoff and Ryan’s fight the day of the hunt, and Michael and Gavin’s strange conversation under the fireworks, and Jack and Geoff’s talk during the ball. Every single one of those conversations had been about how they were running out of time, and he felt nausea grow in his stomach.

“You knew this was going to happen,” Jeremy said, feeling foolish and slow. “You all knew about this.”

Geoff’s head snapped back to look at him, his eyes wide and wet, and his desperate expression pierced through Jeremy. “This alliance was formed as a last stand to protect this world,” he said. “We were doing everything we could to prevent it.”

_Jack was right,_ Jeremy thought, his head spinning. Did that mean everything else he said was right as well?

“Why wouldn’t you just tell everyone?” Jeremy said, his voice rising in desperation. “People are dying!” In the distance, another fireball exploded violently in the city streets, sending up a plume of fire and rubble.

“Do you really think mass hysteria would have been a smart idea?” Ryan shot back, the laughter fading from his lips. “We stupidly assumed we would have been able to fix it, so we didn’t think there would be any need. _This_ was not supposed to happen yet.”

The sounds of screaming and crackling of flames grew closer as they reached the bottom of the hill. Jeremy could see crowds of people now, tripping over themselves as they scrambled outside of the city’s crumbling gates, bodies smudged with ash and blood. A strange sense of familiarity crawled down Jeremy’s back, and he shivered.

Just then, a spike of lightning shot down from the seething, red sky, striking down on one of the city’s watchtowers, and sending large slabs of stone tumbling to the ground. The crack of thunder was deafening, and Jeremy let out a cry as Buttercup skidded to a stop, hackles raised in terror.

“Is that…Gavin?” Geoff exclaimed, a shaky hand raised to the sky. Jeremy followed his gaze to see a small, dark shape darting about in the sky, blue streaks of lighting arcing out of it as it clashed with one of those strange white shapes.

“It seems so,” Ryan said, eyes wide with concern. “What about Michael?”

“We need to help him!” Geoff said urgently. “Fuck, what the hell is that idiot doing?”

Gavin and his griffon did another tight loop, and shot behind one of the buildings, disappearing from sight. A few of the strange white shapes followed behind in hot pursuit.

“Playing the hero,” Ryan said, eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “Let’s keep going.”

They rushed forward again, the heat increasing as the air became thick with smoke and ash. The crowds of people were closer now, and they stumbled forward, haphazardly hefting bundles and bags, wails and screams ripped from their throats. The city was several hundred feet away, and Jeremy could see the horrible white creatures clearly. They were like giant, grotesque squids, bloated and thick as they hovered over the rooftops, their dangling tentacles tearing down the tops of buildings and throwing them to the ground below.

_It’s like a waking nightmare,_ Jeremy thought, heart pounding.

“Can anyone tell us what’s going on?” Geoff yelled out into the crowd.

A few faces turned towards Geoff, and their eyes were large with desperation and fear. “They’ve got horses!” someone called out.

Immediately, they were swarmed on all sides by panicked people, scrabbling hands yanking at the king’s cloaks and the horses’ reigns. They approached Buttercup as well, tearing at his fur and shoving torches in his face as Buttercup snarled in fear.

“A beast! He rides a beast!” a man announced, and Jeremy saw the glint of metal as someone drew a knife.

“Stop it!” Jeremy cried out, panic clawing up his throat as Buttercup let out a terrified whine. “Leave him alone!”

“Calm down!”

Geoff’s voice rumbled through the crowd like thunder, loud and all-encompassing. The desperation bled away from people’s eyes, fading to awe as they looked up at their king, his back straight and his head tilted up proudly, the flames glinting off his golden crown.

“I am your king,” he continued. “And I’ve come to help you. But first, I need to know what’s going on.”

“King Geoff is here!”

“He’s going to help us!”

“We are saved!”

Geoff’s name spread through the crowd like a ripple, and people began to drop to their knees, hands raised to the mottled, bruised sky. As Jeremy stared at Geoff, he was hit by an urge to do the same, and it reverberated through him, like a silent command pulling at his gut. He shook it off, and pressed closer to Buttercup. As he turned away, he felt Ryan’s eyes on him, bright with analyzation, and he grimaced. He supposed no one would recognize the mad king without his iconic helm on.

A single man stepped forward, holding a bleeding wound at his side. “The end has come, sire,” he said, voice hoarse. “We awoke in the middle of the night to an earthquake so big it was as if the world was splittin’ in half. That portal rose up in the center of our town, and demons started spillin’ from it: pig-man abominations and giant skeletons as black as night. The only ones who survived were those who ran.”

_Pig-men?_ Jeremy thought, alarmed. That was just like the creatures he had fought in the forest. Did that mean it was a portal to the nether? Could such a thing even be possible?

“There’s still soldiers in the city,” the first man continued. “They made a blockade in the main street, and they’re the only reason we’re not being overrun as we speak. There are people trapped in the temple as well, but monsters keep comin’ out of that portal, and there’s no way they can hold them off forever.”

“Then I will go help them,” Geoff said, and hopped off his horse. “Can I trust you to ride to the nearest town and ask for assistance?”

“Of course, sire,” the man said, eyes wide as he took the reigns. “I’d do anything for you.”

Geoff nodded. “Stay safe, and ride swift. Take my crest, so that they won’t doubt the news you bring,” he said, and handed the man his longsword as well.

“Geoff,” Ryan said warningly, but Geoff ignored him and helped the man onto his horse. 

Jeremy looked around at the crowd, at their eyes wide with hope and idolization, even as hell rained down behind them. Somehow, he found himself wondering if he had looked the same, back when Geoff had helped him that day.

“As for everyone else,” Geoff said, jerking Jeremy out of his thoughts. “You should take refuge in the mountain’s mines. It’s too dangerous to just run out into the night, and too cold as well. You need to barricade yourselves in, and take up arms if you are able – there are plenty of pickaxes to go around. Once help arrives, we can safely evacuate. I know things might seem dire, but I promise you, I will not let this city fall.”

Geoff was radiating confidence and hope, and everyone around him seemed to straighten as well, the last vestiges of uncertainty draining away from their expressions. Even Jeremy felt something warm surge up in his chest as he looked at Geoff’s strong gaze, something that chased away the horrors he hadn’t even realized was building up.

But as the crowd began to filter towards the mines, Geoff turned back to them, and his expression crumpled back into something fearful and unsure, and Jeremy felt the coldness snap back into him. It was a mask, he realized – giving out hope when he had none himself _._

_There’s something a bit lonely about that,_ Jeremy thought, as he watched Geoff stand with his shoulders slumped, his back turned to the people he had brought courage to.

Ryan let out a heavy sigh and dropped to the ground, and handed his horse to a pregnant woman burdened down with many wailing children. She let out a thankful exclamation, and she and her children pulled him into an enthusiastic hug, nearly knocking him to the ground. Ryan blinked, shocked, his cheeks red. As the kids dangled from his dark cloak, Ryan reached into his bag and pulled out a few pastries to give to them. The children let out excited squeals and immediately stuffed their faces with the treats, and peppered Ryan’s face with sticky kisses. Ryan noticed Jeremy watching, and looked away quickly, something a bit shy in his expression.

_I wonder if his subjects ever viewed him with anything other than fear,_ Jeremy thought, tilting his head.

As Jeremy dropped down from Buttercup, Geoff stepped over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You should go with them,” he said, eyebrows pulled together. “It’ll be too dangerous in the city. This is not your fight to carry.”

“He is going with us,” Ryan cut in, his harsh tone belayed by the fact that he was rubbing crumbs off his cheeks. “I will not leave him alone.”

“What do you mean?” Geoff said, confused. “It’s his choice to make.”

“No,” Jeremy said. “I will go with you.”

Geoff blinked. “Are you sure? You could get hurt.”

Jeremy looked up at the red, seething sky. “I’m sure,” he said. Even if everything Michael had done had been a lie, even if he didn’t care for Jeremy in the slightest, he still couldn’t leave him like that. He didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if he did.

There was another reason as well, though it was much more embarrassing to consider. Before Jeremy met Lindsay, he would have the same sort of dream, one that he would clutch close to his heart night after night. He could still remember that dream clearly as well, as it was usually the same. In the dream, he had always saved Geoff in some ridiculous fashion, maybe from a hydra, or a dragon, and Geoff would turn to him, and say something about how he remembered him, and was proud of how far he came, or something along those lines.

Of course, reality was a lot more different.

Geoff didn’t remember him. To him, Jeremy was just another face in the crowd, one of the countless people whose lives he changed for the better. Perhaps the words he had given to Jeremy had been hollow as well, empty platitudes to a dumb kid who was causing a ruckus. But still, it was impossible to deny the effect those words had on him for so many years. If the world truly was ending, then Jeremy wanted to go down fulfilling his only dream, even if it was an empty one.

Geoff looked at him with warm eyes, and Jeremy felt his heart jump. “If you say so, little guy. We’ll fight together.”

Ryan gave him a funny look, one that Jeremy couldn’t quite parse the meaning of. “I’ll protect you,” he said.

“For Michael, right?” Jeremy said, giving a small, bitter laugh. “I know.”

As Ryan continued to give him that strange look, Jeremy walked over to Buttercup, and put his hands on the warg’s head, threading his fingers through its fur. “Please be careful, bud. You’re all I have left now,” he said softly. Buttercup let a sad whine and pressed his head to Jeremy’s. “I’m going to bring you back the most beautiful flower in the world, I promise.”

Buttercup gave him one last nudge and lick, before giving a resigned harrumph and sitting down with a plop.

“And now, with eyes wide eyes open we walk willingly into hell,” Ryan said, flourishing his sword dramatically.

“Oh gods, go shove your dumb poetry up your ass,” Geoff groaned, and trudged forward.

They quickly started down on the path to the city, Ryan leading with his sword held out. Jeremy followed close behind, his own sword drawn and heavy in his arms. Geoff shuffled behind him, jumping at every shifting of shadow. The city gates had been cracked and broken, and flames roared beyond throughout the city.

As they crossed the threshold, a sudden explosion rocked the sky, louder than all of the others so far. A wave of black smoke rolled in through the streets, thick and fast. Suddenly Jeremy could see nothing but black, and he felt his throat burn he inhaled the burning smoke. He began to choke and cough, and bent down at the knees to steady himself.

“What the hell was that?” Geoff wheezed.

The smoke began to clear, and a strange, smothering silence settled over them. Ryan was looking up at the sky, his eyes narrowed. Jeremy realized with a start that those white monsters and Gavin’s griffon were both gone, leaving nothing but seething, red clouds clogging up the horizon.

“Do you feel anything?” Ryan said, turning to him.

For a minute, Jeremy just stared at him, baffled, before it hit him what he was asking. “Oh, right. The bond,” he realized. “No, I feel fine.” He was pretty sure he’d notice if Michael had been instantaneously disintegrated.

Ryan nodded, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Perhaps he’s won, then.”

“Or it means that he’s separated from Michael,” Geoff said, pulling at his sleeve anxiously.

They exchanged nervous glances and pushed forward again, their pace accelerated this time. As they made their way closer into the heart of the city, the smell of sulfur increased, causing Jeremy’s stomach to lurch. There were bodies strewn everywhere, bloodied and broken, mouths open in screams of permanent terror. Others were burnt to crisp, and Jeremy felt bile rise in his throat. He heard Geoff murmur a small apology behind him as he wrested a sword from a decapitated soldier’s grasp.

As he looked at the flames growing around them, and smelled the sickening stench of death, Jeremy felt that horrible sense of familiarity crawling up his back again. He resolutely pushed it down, refusing to acknowledge it. _Not yet,_ he thought, and bit his lip.

The sound of clashing metal and shouts came from ahead, and they sprinted around the corner to find the main road in chaos. Soldiers were currently locked in combat with a wave of pigmen, and it seemed as if they were losing. Jeremy watched in terror as a pigman impaled a man with its gleaming sword, its weapon easily cutting through the armor as if it were butter. For every soldier that was fighting, there were ten pigmen, and they were easily getting overwhelmed, their flimsy wooden barricades being tossed aside as if they were nothing.

And then came the black skeletons.

They stood easily twice as high as a normal sized human, and their bones were pitch black and dripping slightly, as if they had been dipped in tar. With unnatural speed they rushed forward, cutting people down effortlessly. One of the skeletons picked up one of the soldiers and held them aloft in their grasp, and as Jeremy watched in horror, the person began to dissolve, their skull caving in and withering away into dust as they shrieked.

“Let’s do this!” Geoff called out, and with a nod from Ryan, the two of them charged into the fray.

“Right,” Jeremy whispered.

The skeletons eyes locked with his, and it dropped its half-dissolved victim.

“Bring it on, bitch,” Jeremy taunted, and held out his sword in his sweaty palms.

The skeleton rushed towards him, and Jeremy barely had time to blink before its sword was clashing with his. The impact was heavy, and Jeremy felt his entire arm shake violently with the impact, painfully jerking his shoulder. He could see the skeleton’s eyes now as he struggled to hold his ground, dark as nothingness, and for a terrifying minute Jeremy felt as if he could’ve been swallowed up by them. Then, the skeleton took one of its hands off the sword and swung at Jeremy’s head. He gasped and ducked, feeling the swipe of air as its hand grabbed at the place he once was. However, his grip on his sword loosened, and the skeleton’s sword broke free, crashing into the cobblestone below. As the stone began to dissolve into black ash, the skeleton’s head creaked towards Jeremy, and let out a guttural clicking noise.

Jeremy jumped backwards just as the skeleton wrested its sword free and swung at him again. The skeleton let out another grunt and slashed forward this time, and Jeremy felt the tip of the sword tear into his shirt, a mere millimeter away from his stomach as he jerked back.

_Thank the gods I didn’t eat before we came here,_ Jeremy thought, in a moment of absurd relief.

This time he swung out at the skeleton, but his blow didn’t have enough strength behind it, and it merely glanced off the monster’s bones. The skeleton pulled back, and the two of them began to circle each other, all while the skeleton continued its strange guttural words, as if it were taunting Jeremy back.

“Unless you’re telling me how beautiful I am, could you please stop that?” Jeremy asked, sweat beading on his brow. “You’re kinda creeping me out here.”

As quick as a flash, the skeleton unleashed a flurry of blows on Jeremy, and he quickly sidestepped out of the way before returning one of the blows with a quick parry. As the skeleton struggled to push him back, Jeremy heard Geoff shout something behind him, and he gulped, resisting the urge to turn around and look. Instead, he lunged at the skeleton’s torso, and with a horrible screeching sound, his sword embedded itself in the skeleton’s chest, caught securely between two of its ribs.

“Shit,” Jeremy hissed. The skeleton grunted excitedly and swung down on him, but Jeremy held tight onto his sword, and spun around with it, his feet skidding on the floor as it wiggled frantically to dislodge him. Jeremy yanked with all of his strength, but the sword stayed stubbornly lodged. As the skeleton gave another whirl, and brought its sword down for a second blow, narrowly missing his face, Jeremy decided it was time to be stupid.

Before he could regret his entire existence, he kicked off from the ground hard and pulled up, so that he was dangling from his sword. As the skeleton made a move to clutch at his face again, Jeremy swung to the side, using the skeleton’s ribs as leverage to pull himself up to perch on the sword. The sword was broad enough that he could stand on it, but as he stood with his full weight, it began to bend dangerously. Then, with a horrible cracking sound, the sword came loose, taking part of the skeleton’s rib with it. Jeremy and his sword scattered to the floor, but he tucked himself into a ball and quickly rocketed himself back to his feet. While the skeleton looked down stupidly at its broken ribs, Jeremy scooped up his fallen sword and swung down hard, completely cleaving the skeleton in two.

As the skeleton’s remains scattered into ash, he took a deep, triumphant breath to steady himself, and looked up to see the battle still raging on. He couldn’t see Geoff, but Ryan was taking on multiple pigmen at once. His steps were confident and graceful, and he seemed to be having no trouble, so Jeremy turned instead to the rest of the fight. Despite the backup, they were still struggling, and reinforcements for the enemies kept rushing in.

Several feet away from Jeremy was a single soldier struggling with multiple pigmen. His helmet had fallen off so Jeremy could see his wide eyes and his young, boyish face, caked with blood and dirt. He was fighting them off well enough, but Jeremy could tell he was weakening, and another pigman was approaching from behind, its sword poised to plunge into his back.

Jeremy’s breath caught in his throat, and all he could think of was Michael, his eyes shining with regret as he fell, the golden sword piercing through his chest as Jeremy kneeled, helpless.

_No,_ he thought, and suddenly he was rushing forward, and cold power was flowing through him like a broken dam. He shoved the soldier out of the way and parried the blow that was coming for him. Then, he thrust the pigman back and quickly stabbed through its head, before wheeling around and chopping the head off the other. The power drained out of him, as quickly as it came, leaving him weak. Jeremy caught himself, breathing heavily, and turned to help the young solider up.

“T-thank you,” the soldier said, his eyes shining with something like awe.

Jeremy flushed. “No problem, kid. Watch your back, yeah?” The soldier nodded happily, his cheeks red, and scuttled back to join the fight.

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed in Jeremy’s right arm, as if someone was carving a hot knife into his skin. He let out a shout and held his arm out in alarm, but it was untouched.

_Michael?_ Jeremy thought, eyes wide in horror. Had he just gotten injured? The pain faded to a dull ache, but anxiety twisted in Jeremy’s stomach.

Another pigman rushed over to him, brandishing its gold sword, and Jeremy quickly ducked to avoid its attack. He responded with his own swipe of his sword, but his arm throbbed in pain again, and his grip on the sword slipped. It went skittering ahead of him down the road, and Jeremy looked up at the pigman as it dribbled out blood from its snout, and gulped. He took off running, dodging the sword aimed for his head.

His sword thankfully skidded to a stop, and as Jeremy lunged forward to scoop it up, he heard a guttural groan above him. He looked up, slowly, to see two black skeletons staring down at him, their jaws grinding as they readied their swords.

“Need a little help?”

Jeremy jolted as a hand dragged him to his feet, bringing him face to face with Ryan, who was smirking slightly. Ryan shoved him back so he could parry both of the skeleton’s blows, effectively knocking them backwards a few steps.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before I saw you on the floor,” Ryan said, as he effortlessly held back the skeletons. “Somehow, I always end up finding you there.”

Jeremy bristled. “I don’t need your help, ass. Go suck your dick somewhere else.”

“Nah. I think I’m about done here,” Ryan said, and with one final swipe, cleaved both of the skeletons in half.

_Holy shit,_ Jeremy thought, and tried to school his shocked expression into something unimpressed. It was an absolute pain to admit, but the guy looked good, especially when fighting. With his focused eyes and broad shoulders, and his black cloak whipping around in the flames, he made a pretty good picture. From a purely artistic perspective, of course. He was still a shithead, regardless.

“Time to die, fuckers!”

They both looked over in time to see Geoff barreling down from a side street, sword held high and a crowd of people following behind him, brandishing all sorts of makeshift weapons and screaming out a battlecry.

“Reinforcements from the temple,” Ryan said, grinning. “Smart thinking.”

The crowd clashed with the remaining enemies, and in a matter of seconds, wiped them out entirely. Pigmen were chopped into gore with pickaxes and shovels, and skeletons were scattered into bones with hoes and brooms. Jeremy couldn’t help his disbelieving laugh, and Ryan met his eye, and gave his own laugh as well. The soldiers began to cheer, tears running down their faces as they fell to their knees.

“King Geoff!” one of them called. “You’ve come to save us.”

Geoff smiled, a blindingly warm smile. “Of course I’ve come.”

It was _that_ smile, Jeremy realized, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Celebration will have to wait,” Ryan cut in, meticulously cleaning the blood from his sword. “I’m sure more of those monsters are on the way.”

“They were coming out of a portal,” one of the soldiers said, and she pointed down the road, where they could see the faint glow of purple, underneath one of the arches of the city’s temple. “We were thinking of sending in some of our own, to find a way to close it.”

“No, no,” Geoff said, shaking his head. “That would be a suicide mission. Instead…we should try closing it from the outside.”

“From the outside?” Ryan questioned, an eyebrow raised. “How so?”

“A fuckload of dynamite,” Geoff said, eyes glittering mischievously. “Obsidian might be unbreakable without diamond, but if we bring down the temple around it, we could bury it and buy ourselves more time.”

“A temporary fix while we search for a more permanent solution,” Ryan mused. “I like the way you think, Ramsey.”

“I know you do,” Geoff winked. “So, we’ll split up in teams then, and work quickly. Ashley,” he said, motioning to one of the soldiers that had spoken up earlier. “You will take the rest of the people to the mines for refuge. Then, you guys bring back as much dynamite and redstone as you can carry. Tyler, you stay here, and fix the barricades as much as possible. If any fuck so much as sticks the head of their dick out of that portal, you sound an alarm.”

“Of course, sir,” Tyler said, looking caught between being serious and holding back a laugh.

“Ryan, I want you to give medical attention to anyone that needs it,” Geoff said, and Ryan gave a rather mocking salute. “Jeremy, you and I will set up the dynamite.”

Jeremy jolted as Geoff’s sure gaze turned to him. “Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it,” Jeremy said, then flushed at his own words. Gods, he really meant it, didn’t he?

Geoff nodded, and the confidence faded from his expression. “There’s…one last thing,” he said. “Have any of you seen the man on the griffon? He’s tall, skinny, with this gigantic nose, and just looking at him makes you annoyed. He’s hard to miss, you know.”

A silence fell as the soldiers exchanged glances with each other.

“Not since the explosion, no,” one of the men piped up. “He was fighting that sky octopus-”

“Ghast,” Ryan supplied.

“-that ghastly sky octopus,” the soldier corrected, and Ryan sighed wearily. “And I think he was winning. Haven’t seen nothing after that, though.”

Geoff’s expression fell, before he schooled it back into something normal. “Well, if you see anything, let me know immediately. Dismissed.”

As the crowd all separated to do their various assigned jobs, Ryan walked over to Geoff and put a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s resourceful,” Ryan said. “I’m sure he’s just waiting it out with Michael in some house. After all of this is done, we can go searching for them.”

“You’re right,” Geoff said, his shoulders slumped. “One thing at a time.”

Ryan crept closer and began to rub soothing circles on his back. Jeremy’s jaw clenched at the sight, and he whirled around, resolutely ignoring the strange feelings seething in his chest.

While they waited for the soldiers to return with the dynamite, Jeremy helped the others reset the barricades. Ryan had made a small, makeshift sort of clinic off to the side, and Geoff helped drag the injured over to him. Despite the overwhelming amount of hurt people, Ryan seemed unperturbed and in control, eyes focused as he saved person after person. He began to accrue himself a bit of a following, as all the people he saved began to shower him with thanks and presents: pressed flowers and knitted shawls and even a squashed cake. Ryan graciously accepted the presents, his cheeks flushed. Geoff stood near him, pointing out the mines to any of the villagers, easily joking and laughing their fears away.

_They’re amazing,_ Jeremy thought, as he dragged out a couple wooden spikes. Even Ryan, somehow. He could see why they were kings, why people followed them without question. As he watched a villager throw their arms gratefully around Geoff, he slammed a pike in the ground with more force than necessary, and it splintered in half. Jeremy looked at the chunks of wood in shock, and another throb of pain pulsed through his right arm, stronger than before.

_Fuck,_ he thought. It couldn’t be Michael, then. Maybe an over-extended muscle? He rolled his shoulder, wincing. Either way, he definitely wasn’t going to go ask Ryan for help. He looked over at the man in question, who was currently stuffing his face with cake in one hand, and healing a man with the other. Jeremy rolled his eyes. Fuck that.

After another half hour of waiting, Ashley and the other soldiers returned, tugging along carts filled to the brim with dynamite and barrels of redstone. Geoff clapped his hands together excitedly.

“Ready, kid?” he asked.

Jeremy gave a nervous nod, and the two them began to make their way to the temple, pulling the carts behind them. The temple was a massive, intimidating structure, and it loomed over the rest of the city with its gold painted domes and giant spires. The portal sat underneath it, black as night and pulsing that strange purple, almost hypnotizing in an odd way. Jeremy swallowed hard.

“Seems a pity to destroy it,” he said, motioning towards the temple.

“Eh, the gods have already abandoned us anyway. I doubt they’ll care,” Geoff said, shrugging. Then, his expression twisted into something more melancholic. “Gavin would’ve loved to do this. He loves blowing shit up, and he hates the gods. This would’ve been like a holiday to him.”

A couple questions rose up unbidden to Jeremy’s lips, but he shoved them down.

“Well, wherever he is in the city,” Jeremy said. “At least we’ll know he’ll hear it.”

Geoff snorted. “Guess you’re right.”

The inside of the temple was chillingly cold, and the only light was the strange reddish light from outside, and it spilled across the stone floor like blood. Carved pillars rose up to the arching ceilings, so high up that Jeremy could barely see where they ended.

“You put down the dynamite, and I’ll follow behind you with redstone,” Geoff said. “Try to get as many pillars as possible so we can knock this bitch down.”

Their work was mostly silent at first: Jeremy quickly stacked dynamite under each pillar while Geoff laid out a methodical line of redstone. But after a while, Jeremy felt a question rise to his lips, and this time, he couldn’t quite keep it down.

“Is it hard?” Jeremy burst out, then flinched, embarrassed that he had actually said it.

Geoff looked down thoughtfully. “I mean, not yet, but maybe if you worked at it a little-”

“No, no, no,” Jeremy stuttered, putting his hands over his red face. “Not _that_ , what the fuck.”

“I was just joking,” Geoff snickered. “Fine, what are you talking about, then?”

“I meant, is it hard being a king?” Jeremy said quickly, his cheeks still heated.

Geoff blinked a couple times, pausing from laying down some redstone. “Hard being a king?” he repeated thoughtfully.

“I mean, having to be the hope of so many people, constantly having to reassure them, and put on a strong face no matter what you’re feeling,” Jeremy said, looking up at the carved face of a god, light up by the sacrilegious red lighting. “Isn’t it exhausting?”

Geoff was staring intently at him now, something shocked in his usually tired expression. “I…wow. Never got asked something like that before. Heavy question.”

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry,” Jeremy said, and abruptly turned away to plop more dynamite now, with more force than what should probably be ever used with explosives. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I don’t really know what I’m talking about anyway.” He let out a semi-hysterical laugh.

“Nah, I’ll answer,” Geoff said, stroking his beard. “I was just a bit thrown off. Uh…hm. Gotta think about this one.” For a minute, Geoff was silent as Jeremy carefully put down the last few pieces of dynamite, and Jeremy shifted nervously.

Finally, Geoff let out long sigh. “Yeah, it’s pretty hard. I wish I could lie to you and say that it’s all worth it or some shit like that, but honestly, I don’t know if it is. I mean, look at me-” Geoff motioned dramatically at himself. “I’m a fucking idiot. Probably always will be to - gods know I’ll end up dead ass-up in some ditch somewhere. But these people still look up to me, think I have all the answers. The truth is that I don’t know shit, and I make mistakes, and I’m really fucking afraid. I guess after a while that kinda wears you down.”

Jeremy stared at Geoff, shocked that he was revealing so much. He bit his lip. “So, how do you keep going, then?” Jeremy asked, voice hushed. “Without anyone understanding you? After all those mistakes you made? How do you live with yourself, knowing that they were your fault? That it was you that killed them?” His hands clenched into tight fists as he took on a more frantic tone.

“Well, I feel like shit for a while,” Geoff said, something a bit knowing in his gaze. “I grieve. I beat myself up. And then I move on. I move on because I love my people, and I want to give them the best, you know? Hopefully I can keep improving somewhere along the way, so I can be less of a fuck-up. Maybe these people deserve better than me, but I’ll do the best I can anyway.”

Easier said than done, Jeremy thought sullenly. He kicked at a rock as they crossed the temple floor, his brows furrowed in thought.

“It got better after I met them though. For the first time, it felt like I had someone that really got me, you know?” Geoff continued, and the look in his eyes was impossibly warm.

“Because they’re from your world,” Jeremy said, his voice barely a whisper.

Geoff threw him a curious look. “Something like that, yeah. It’s just nice to have people that call you out for being an idiot, I guess.”

“Well, my opinion doesn’t really count for much,” Jeremy said. “But I’ve always…I think you’re pretty amazing. I feel like people that can pretend to be strong truly are strong, you know? What you’ve given these people is something they can hold onto for the rest of their lives, even if it might be false. I don’t think there’s many people that can do the same.” At the very least, Jeremy was sure he would hold onto Geoff’s smile for the rest of his life.

Geoff was silent, and after a minute, Jeremy looked up to see him staring at him, a rather goofy expression on his face: his brows twisted up comically and his mouth pursed and nose scrunched. Then, he began to laugh, a rather low and ominous sort of laugh that admittedly creeped Jeremy out.

“I can see it,” Geoff said in a strange tone.

“See what?” Jeremy whirled around nervously.

“Why Michael likes you,” Geoff said triumphantly, in a rather child-like tone.

Jeremy almost choked on his own spit, taken completely aback.

“What? Michael doesn’t- it’s not like that,” he said, irritation bleeding into his tone. Was he really going to have to do this again?

“What do you mean ‘not like that’?” Geoff exclaimed, his voice echoing loudly in the chamber.

“Exactly that,” Jeremy said shortly. “Michael doesn’t like me in that way. I’m sure he wouldn’t want people to misunderstand.” Geoff was certainly acting all knowledgeable considering he barely even knew who Jeremy was a few days back. He couldn’t help but wonder how much Ryan had actually told him.

“What? Are you being serious?” Geoff guffawed, shock clear on his face. “He seriously all but proposed to you. If he didn’t like you, he would’ve immediately dissolved the bond, instead of giving you an armband forged from his love or some shit. Gods, you’re a little thick, aren’t you Jeremy?”

Jeremy didn’t respond. Instead, he was completely frozen, his breath caught in his throat and his eyes wide with realization.

“Oh gods,” he breathed.

“Jeremy? You okay there, kid? I didn’t break your brain or anything like that, did I?”

Almost mechanically, Jeremy reached up to run his hand up and down his left arm. It was completely smooth.

He had forgotten the armband.

Suddenly, he recalled what Matt had said that day about the armilla, and he felt his heart shutter to a stop.

_If the right arm, and only the right arm, decide to betray the king, the bond will break and the king will die. Fucked up, right? This guy must have a hell of a lot of trust in you, for some reason. How ironic._

_Holy shit,_ Jeremy thought, dragging a shaking hand through his hair.

Had he…inadvertently betrayed Michael? By throwing away the armband given to him, had he caused Michael to fall in that strange illness? If it was his fault, if Michael was dying because of him, what would he do? Jeremy looked down at his trembling hands, pure panic building in his chest.

“I have to go back,” he said.

“Back where? What are you talking about?”

“I have to go back,” Jeremy repeated, and took off into a full sprint.

“Woah, woah.” Geoff reached out and yanked Jeremy back before he could even get far, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I need to get to that camp,” Jeremy said, wrestling against his surprisingly strong grip. “I forgot…I have to go back there.”

“You do realize the world is ending right?” Geoff said, an eyebrow raised. “You can’t just go running out there.”

“No, you don’t _understand_ ,” Jeremy cried, tugging against his arm, his voice hysterical. “This is really fucking important, and I - _shit_.”

Geoff grabbed both of Jeremy’s shoulders, steadying him. “Jeremy, hey, take a deep breath, okay? It’s not safe to go out now. Let’s just figure this out first, then we can go back there together, alright? Everything will be fine.”

Jeremy looked at Geoff’s sure eyes, and felt the panic drain slowly out of him.

Was he just overreacting? It wasn’t as if he had never taken the armband off before – he took it off plenty of times to bathe. It was probably just a coincidence that Michael was feeling ill at the same time. But even so, he couldn’t help the horrible sense of unease that rolled in his stomach.

“You’re right,” Jeremy said. “Sorry, I kinda…lost myself for a bit.”

Geoff frowned, but as he opened his mouth to respond, a sudden blast from a horn echoed throughout the temple, frantic and lingering.

Geoff grit his teeth. “Seems they’re back. Shit! I have to finish laying down this redstone.”

Jeremy could hear noises from outside of the temple now: the drawing of swords, frantic shouting, and the scuffle of boots. He swallowed hard, and put his hand on his own sword.

“I’ll help hold them off,” he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. “You finish up here.”

“Wait!” Geoff called out, but Jeremy was already darting outside of the temple.

As he left the shelter of stone, he was immediately hit by a blast of scorching air and whirlwind of burning ash. He drew up the collar of his shirt just as a giant fireball shot overhead and crashed into a building to his left, sending burning stone crashing down. Jeremy was thrown to the side, and hit a pillar with a shout.

There was a horrible screeching sound, and Jeremy looked up to see one of those monstrous white creatures looming in the red sky – a ghast, as Ryan had called it. He instantly recoiled – it looked fucking horrendous: massive, lumpy body, tentacles that whipped around like a writhing mass of snakes, and a face stretched into an eternal scream of despair, with large grey tears dribbling out of its coal black eyes. Then, as Jeremy watched, those eyes began to glow a hot orange, and it opened its mouth to spit out another fireball out at the city.

_Gods, we’re completely fucked,_ Jeremy thought. Without any way to attack it from the ground, they would only be able to watch in terror as it rained hell upon them. Even if Geoff brought the portal down, it wouldn’t stop it.

_Unless I take it down with it,_ Jeremy realized, and a terrible idea cropped in his head.

He bolted forward, dodging crumbled pieces of fallen buildings and burning chunks of wood. He turned the corner to see the barricades he helped build up already in shambles, and soldiers scattered around in panic.

“Jeremy! Where’s Geoff?” Ryan shouted at him, hefting up several injured people off into a building.

“He’s fine!” Jeremy yelled back distractedly. He scanned the ruined floor, and quickly scooped up a fallen serrated spear, hefting it thoughtfully. Then, he wheeled around and located a pile of rope, and began to quickly knot it on the wooden end of the spear, making sure it was perfectly secure. Satisfied, he scrambled up a fallen tower and took on an offensive stance, waiting.

“What are you doing? Get out of here!” Ryan yelled.

“I’m going fishing,” Jeremy said, and gripped the spear tighter.

The ghast turned its attention to them, and everything seemed to slow down. With pinpoint precision, Jeremy could see everything that was happening around him: the soldiers scrambling away with mouths open to scream, the ghast’s eyes flickering orange as it focused its gaze down below as heat gathered to form a fireball, Ryan throwing his arms up protectively against the cowering villagers behind him, fully prepared to take the brunt of the blow to save them.

Cold power snapped into Jeremy’s veins, and he pulled his arm back and threw the spear. It rocketed forward from his grasp, whistling through the air like a bolt before lodging itself in the ghast’s side. The monster let out a long, inhuman screech, reverberating painfully through the streets. Then, its fireball shot forward from its mouth, and with frightening certainty Jeremy knew that Ryan was going to be hit by it. Time seemed to screech to a halt as Jeremy watched the fireball hurtle forward, and Ryan’s eyes close as he accepted his fate.

_No._

Horror washed through Jeremy as he darted forward, pushing people aside. Pulling out his sword, he skidded to a halt in front of Ryan, facing the burning fireball speeding towards them. With a sharp intake of breath, he steadied himself, and then swung out with his sword with all of the strength he could possibly muster.

There was a deafening cracking noise as his sword made impact with the flaming ball, and it went shooting away from them like a cannonball. Jeremy stumbled backwards with the force of it, slamming into Ryan and sending them both sprawling to the ground. An ear-splitting screech pierced the air as the fireball made contact with the monster, setting it aflame.

_Holy fuck,_ Jeremy thought, adrenaline surging through him like fine spikes of electricity. It had to have been his tattoo that gave him the strength; there was no other way he would’ve been able to do something like that. How the hell had he gotten it to work this time?

There was a small splutter underneath him, and Jeremy realized with a shock that he was lying on top of Ryan. The king’s eyes were wide as he blinked up at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“You…you…” he sputtered.

Jeremy let out a small laugh and brushed some of the ash out of Ryan’s hair. “Now we’re on the ground together, huh? That’s some sort of equality,” he said.

He pulled himself up as Ryan continued to splutter, and turned his attention back to the ghast that was currently shaking the flames off itself. The spear he had thrown was still embedded securely in its side.  

“That’s right, you bloated fuck! And now you’re coming with me!” Jeremy announced, and gave a little triumphant dance, before diving forward to grab the end of the rope, now dangling from the spear piercing the ghast’s side. He gave an experimental tug, and it thankfully stayed put.

The ghast’s eyes began to glow, and Jeremy barely had time to curse before he was diving out of the way of a ball of fire. The building behind him exploded in a burst of stone and wood, and Jeremy ducked as a flaming tile went spinning past his head.

“No need to be naughty!” Jeremy spat out, and grabbed hold of the rope again. “If you behave, I’ve got quite the present for you.”

He took off running, yanking the rope behind. The ghast let out another shriek as it was tugged to the ground, and began to pull back. There was a moment of tension, and Jeremy felt his heart drop as the spear wiggled dangerously. But the moment passed, and Jeremy’s strength won as the ghast was hauled after him. He heard Ryan shout something behind him, but he was already sprinting down the street in the direction of the temple.

_This is ridiculous, this is absolutely fucking ridiculous,_ Jeremy thought, rolling out of the way as a fireball completely incinerated the garden to the left of him. He could see the temple looming in the distance now, and he quickly darted towards it, his heart pounding in his chest. He gave the rope one last tug as he ducked inside. The ghast emitted another screech as it was hauled inside, barely fitting between the large pillars.

“Time to go,” Jeremy said, and looked down in time to side the faint glow of redstone beneath his boots, quickly racing towards a pile of dynamite towards his left.

_Fuck, I need to get out here_ now _,_ Jeremy thought, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Jeremy stepped forward, but suddenly, a wave of pain crashed through him. It was stronger than anything he had ever felt before, and it was all concentrated in his right arm like red-hot fire, as if it was being torn off from his body. He stumbled and fell, letting out a wordless a scream as horrific agony pulsed through him. Then, the line of redstone stopped, and the dynamite began to sizzle.

_Ah, fuck,_ he thought, and everything went white.

 

* * *

 

 

“Irresponsible.”

Jeremy let out a thick groan, and put a hand to his pounding head.

“Childish. Foolhardy. Absolutely moronic.”

Jeremy cracked an eye open to peer at a man sitting next to him, his arms crossed and his foot tapping at a furious pace.

“Never in my life have I seen anything more idiotic,” the man continued. “You almost put Michael and Gavin to shame, and that’s saying something.”

“Hello Ryan,” Jeremy croaked. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

“I genuinely do not believe you have a brain at all. Do you pull such ideas out of your ass?”

“Did it work, though?” Jeremy asked. He sat up, wincing as pain pierced though him.

He looked around to see he was sitting on a makeshift bedding in some sort of massive cavern. Calming, blue light was spilling from a hole somewhere in the celing, and scraggly trees and plants arced towards it. He could hear the soft trickle of water behind him, and hushed voices and laughter in the distance. But what really captured Jeremy’s attention was a giant statue carved into the side of the rocky cavern. It was a statue of Geoff, but unlike the other ones in his kingdom, this one was stately and powerful, and Geoff’s unseeing stone eyes gazed serenly down at them. As Jeremy looked up at it, he felt something horrible lurch in his stomach.

Ryan’s mouth twisted in disapproval. “It did work, unfortunately. I hope you do not find encouragement in that. You were lucky to not have been buried alive.”

Warm relief flooded through Jeremy, and he settled back down. “And Geoff?” he asked.

“Fine as well, though more than a bit shocked to hear that you had been caught up in his blast,” Ryan said. “He was waiting for you to wake, but was pulled away from his subjects. I should go get him-”

“No!” Jeremy burst out, and grabbed at Ryan’s arm to stop him. “I mean… he should stay with his people.”

“If you say so,” Ryan said, frowning as he sat back down.

“You don’t have to stay here, either,” Jeremy continued, fidgeting with his blanket nervously.

“I think I do. I haven’t finished reprimanding you yet.”

“Nah, I get it,” Jeremy said wearily. “I think I’m done for a while.” At this point, he was more than a bit tired of blacking out. Still, as he reached out for a cup of water, he realized he actually didn’t feel too shitty, for once. Besides a few scrapes or bruises, he felt fine. And, even stranger, his arm felt perfectly okay. Had he just imagined the pain?

“Somehow, I find myself not believing you.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Um…where are we, anyway?” Jeremy asked, hoping to change the subject.

“The mines,” Ryan said. “The portal has been thankfully buried, but until backup arrives, it is far too dangerous to leave. Once they do arrive, however, we can go searching for Michael and Gavin.”

Jeremy took his surroundings in, shivering. It was a bit cold, and he had never been fond of being underground. He could see shadows shifting in the distance, people shuffling together towards the entrance, excitement clear on their dirty faces. They were surrounding something – Geoff, Jeremy supposed – and they all clutched pickaxes and food rations.

Ryan shoved a plate of food onto his lap, and Jeremy gave him a grateful look before ravenously digging in – he couldn’t even remember the last time he had eaten. Ryan watched him for a bit, then turned and pulled out a book and began to leaf through it. It was strange, but the moment felt oddly peaceful – Ryan reading with rather large spectacles balanced on his nose while Jeremy finished his meal. For the first time in a while, Jeremy let himself relax, some of the built-up tension and fear leeching out of his bones.

It had been a long time since he had a moment to pause, he realized. So much had happened in the past few days that it had seemed to muddle together into one massive nightmare. Jeremy never had the time to sort through his feelings about Matt, let alone acknowledge that the fucking world was crumbling around him. Even now, after facing everything that he did, he still couldn’t quite get himself to believe it.

“Is it true?” Jeremy said after a while, pulling the ratty blanket closer around himself. “Is this world really ending? Will…what happened here spread?”

Ryan stared at him for a minute and put down his book, before he let out a small sigh. “Yes. This is only the beginning, I’m afraid. Portals like that will crop up all over the land. We had been able to predict the order of when each portal would appear, so we had planned to come here and evacuate the city before such a thing happened. Obviously, we were a bit too late.”

“So there will be more then,” Jeremy said, and his breath started to quicken. “More of those monsters, of that death.”

“Yes,” Ryan said, his voice uncharacteristically weak. “The next portal will appear in a town miles and miles from here. There’s no way we’d be able to make in time now. And the third-”

“Is in Lindsay’s kingdom,” Jeremy finished. “My home.” His throat felt tight, and his vision was trembling.

Ryan threw him a thoughtful look. “Ah, yes – Jack’s map. How very conniving of you.”

“Is there a way to fix this?” Jeremy said, desperation building in his chest. “Geoff said you all were working on something – is that still possible?”

“It’s…improbable at this point,” Ryan said, shaking his head. Then, he gave Jeremy a long, measuring stare, as if he were analyzing him. After a long, awkward moment of that, his gaze fell, and he let out a lingering sigh. “We were…hoping to utilize a certain power, one that only kings are aware of.”

“A king’s power?” Jeremy breathed, a bit awed.

“Yes. When a king puts a crown on their head, they are informed of this power, and it never leaves – always in the back of their minds, always tempting. Every waking moment, Jeremy, even in my dreams, it calls to me, it is _always_ calling to me. Lesser kings have fallen into that temptation and given into madness, and even I…” Ryan trailed off, put a hand to his temple, and rubbed at it wearily. “Even I am not far from that same fate.”

Jeremy swallowed hard, taking this information in. He had never been one for history, but even he knew the tragic pasts that befell most of the kings. From poisonings to homicides, it was rare for a king’s life to end normally. He had always assumed that this was just how the lives of royalty went, but if Ryan was saying was true, it definitely added a more terrifying layer to the history. He recalled Geoff’s heavy expression, and wondered if he had ever felt that temptation as well.

“It seems dangerous,” Jeremy commented, his initial awe giving way to horror. “Why even go after it?”

“Because it is the only way. To topple the will of gods, you must have the strength of a god yourself. And this power grants that for a small while. Do you…remember the grand hunt?”

“Vividly,” Jeremy said darkly. From Gavin’s cheerful threatening, to Ryan’s interrogation, and to Michael’s near death, he was sure it would be a day he would never be able to quite forget.

“Ah, yes,” Ryan said, a bit sheepishly. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, we had decided that whoever won that day would be the one to yield that strength.”

“And Gavin won,” Jeremy recalled.

“Well, after the events that occurred that day, we had declared that victory null,” Ryan explained. “I don’t Gavin was particularly happy about that.”

“What is this power?” Jeremy asked. “Where do you even find it?”

Ryan leaned backwards and wrapped his arms around his chest in an almost protective way.

“It is a tower – a tower of gold, and it gives you the will to change fate. And, after months of research, we were able to locate where this tower exists.”

“It’s in The End, isn’t it?” Jeremy realized. “That’s why Jack wanted to go there.”

“Indeed,” Ryan said, nodding approvingly. “However, what Jack told you was only a half-truth. For, as it stands now, we have no way of reaching The End.”

Jeremy deflated, and sat back. “I see,” he said.

“At one point, we had been very close to finding it. But then, just before we could, we had certain…essential items stolen from us. After that, the project was brought to a screeching halt, and we were unable to recover since then.”

“Stolen?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Who can steal from kings?”

“Someone entirely stupid, or someone entirely cunning,” Ryan said, then grimaced. “Or even worse, both. If I’m being entirely honest, I did wrongly suspect you at one point. Either way, we did not have enough time to start from scratch, and now it is far too late.”

_Too late._ Jeremy shivered, thinking of everything he had seen today: that monstrous portal, those hordes of pigmen and skeletons of hell, the stench of death and suffering permeating every building. Would that same fate befall Lindsay’s kingdom, her small village with its rolling green hills and warm houses and smiling people? They had no defenses, no way to fight back. Jeremy bit his lip, and looked down at his clenched fists.

“Then… if we’re all fucked, I have to go back home,” Jeremy said. “Even if it’s too late, I have to help her in any way I can. I can’t…stay here.”

“And what of Michael?” Ryan questioned, propping his head up with his hand. “You will leave him to an uncertain fate?”

“I…” Jeremy trailed off, any words he had been about to say sticking in his throat. He steadied himself. “After we find him, I will ask him to break this bond.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “And if he refuses?”

“He won’t,” Jeremy said confidently. “Michael isn’t like that. Besides, I’ve brought him nothing but trouble for him and…him and Gavin. He’d be much better off without me.”

“Well, after you pulled off such stunts tonight, I find myself unable to disagree,” Ryan said, lips quirking into a small smirk.

Jeremy put his head in his hands and sighed quietly.

“I know that, but I still… _fuck_.” He felt so confused and terrible at that moment, as if his chest was being cleaved in two. His thoughts were jumbled and unsure, and didn’t have the slightest idea what he really wanted. Jeremy pressed his hands deeper into his face and eyes, so that small fireworks of colors burst in the blackness of his vision.

Suddenly, Ryan reached out and pulled Jeremy’s hands away. Jeremy blinked up in surprise as he gently put his hands in his grasp.

“You saved me tonight,” Ryan said, voice soft. His hands were shockingly warm.

A wave of nervousness hit Jeremy as the mood changed, and he shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

“Um, well, I’m sure you didn’t really need my help. You probably would’ve turned into a dragon or something before that fireball hit you.”

“Ah, you’ve figured out my darkest secret,” Ryan said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I wonder what sort of blackmail someone as intelligent as you would like.”

“Lots of sweets and alcohol,” Jeremy said solemnly. “I’m sure someone as gracious as you would be more than happy to provide.” Ryan let out a low chuckle.

Jeremy shook himself. Was he really joking with the guy at a time like this? He looked up carefully to see that Ryan was smiling again, and he realized with a shock that it was the same sort of smile he had during the ball.

“You were acting reckless as well,” Jeremy said quickly. “Protecting those people…you were ready to give your life. That was…brave of you, I guess.”

Something minute shifted in Ryan’s expression. “Bravery and stupidity,” he mused. “Such a thin line.”

He still hadn’t let go of Jeremy’s hands, and it was starting to get somewhat distracting. He flipped them over in his grasp, looking at them intensely as if he were studying them. Jeremy never thought he would ever feel self-conscious about his hands, but he certainly did now. In Ryan’s grasp, they looked nothing but ugly – gnarled and crisscrossed with scars, with blood and dirt smeared on his knuckles and shoved up under his nails.

Then, Ryan frowned and leaned forward. “Still refusing to use the bond,” he said. “How very stubborn.” There was a soft blue glow as a small cut on his palm that Jeremy hadn’t even noticed suddenly closed up and healed.

_Maybe it doesn’t work when you’re passed out?_ Jeremy guessed, but uncertainty pulled at his gut again.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Ryan asked, and his intense gaze was back on Jeremy’s. “These powers of mine, this healing. Given to a king of death and suffering – perhaps the gods have quite a cruel sense of humor.”

Ryan turned Jeremy’s hands over in his grasp again, and his thumb brushed almost absently against his knuckles.

“I don’t think it’s strange,” Jeremy said softly. “You don’t seem much like a king of death anymore.”

“Do you really think that?” Ryan asked. “You seem to be contradicting yourself.”

“You’re the contradicting one,” Jeremy said crossly. “I mean, fuck, I’ve never been more confused on how to feel about someone in my life. You don’t have an evil twin hiding in the bushes or something, do you?”

“Not that I’m aware of, no.”

Jeremy’s teeth worried into his lip as he stared at Ryan’s blue eyes, twinkling softly with amusement.

“Maybe I’m just a fucking idiot,” Jeremy said, mostly to himself. “But somehow, I feel like you aren’t actually…well, who everyone thinks you are. Gods, you’re totally gonna stab me now, right?”

“A good stabbing is always an option,” Ryan replied, but his voice was quiet and humorless, and his eyes were averted.

“Maybe you did do those things, maybe you didn’t. I don’t suppose I’ll ever know the truth, huh? But…I guess there is one thing I know for certain about you.” As Jeremy spoke, he felt Ryan’s hands tighten imperceptibly around his. “You care about those people.”

Jeremy expected another strong protest, like the one he had gotten on the night of the ball, but instead, Ryan looked almost thoughtful.

“It’s complicated, isn’t it?” he said, a faraway look in his eyes. “Ever since I met them, it’s been nothing but a beautiful disaster.”

Jeremy snorted. “Emphasis on ‘disaster’, right?”

“Obviously,” Ryan laughed. The two of them smirked at each other, and a surreal moment of something akin to understanding passed between them.

_Fuck everything else, this is without a doubt the weirdest thing that’s happened to me this week,_ Jeremy thought.

“Meeting them…well, it completely changed my perspective on how I viewed these powers,” Ryan continued. He smiled again, but it was a strange, wistful sort of smile, one that Jeremy would’ve guessed he’d be able to make. “It started when I met Gavin.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened. Was Ryan telling him the story of how he had met the other Kings? He couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled up inside of him – he had been curious about something like that for a while now.

“Being acquainted with him was a strange experience, especially when I had been treated with nothing but fear and respect my entire life,” Ryan continued. “And while he was afraid, he was also…well, very disrespectful, frankly. Uncouth, a disaster, really. Asking me all sorts of ridiculous questions and hypothetical situations, poking that nose of his where it did not belong. I told myself it was annoying, but the truth was of course more complicated than that.”

“That…sounds like Gavin,” Jeremy said, leaning forward a bit more. Somehow, he could see it, as well. A younger Ryan, still dressed dramatically in black, of course, sitting stiffly as a brightly dressed Gavin dangled from the trees above him, spouting all sorts of nonsense that a distinguished king would have no idea how to respond to.

“Indeed,” Ryan agreed, shaking his head softly. His expression twisted into something more morose. “Then, one day, he got hurt. Very hurt, halfway on the threshold of death, and, for the first time, I realized I was afraid of losing something. So, I healed him. I expected condemnation, or fear, but he only clung closer after that, gave me ridiculous titles, calling me his ‘lovely white knight’ and such. It was absolutely baffling to me, and more than a bit overwhelming.”

Jeremy’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape as he recalled what Gavin said to him the other day before they had left on their journey, and two puzzle pieces finally snapped together in his mind.

“Michael followed along soon after that, unsurprisingly. Wherever Gavin goes, Michael follows. He got injured frequently, as well, usually because of Gavin, but he was more stubborn about it. In some ways, he was like a wounded animal, hiding the fact he had ever been hurt with overexaggerated words and exclamations. But, when he gets to trust you – well, I suppose you already understand how that is.”

_I don’t want to hear this,_ Jeremy thought, his heart thudding. For some reason, he felt that if he continued to listen, something would change in a way he couldn’t stop. Even so, he couldn’t quite get himself to tear himself out of Ryan’s grasp, and found himself strangely entranced by the tale he was weaving.

“Geoff was more than a headache when he found out. He would come to me for every single injury he got, even if it were nothing but a papercut or a bruise. And Jack…” Ryan’s smile turned bittersweet. “I never healed him. Perhaps he got injured all the time, and he never told me. I suppose I’ll never know.”

“You all…seem very close,” Jeremy said. He meant the words to sound offhand, but they somehow sounded a bit lonely instead. Embarrassed, he quickly snatched his hands back from Ryan’s grasp, pulling them close to his chest.

Ryan gave him a quizzical glance, then stared down at his own hands, as if he hadn’t even realized what he had been doing.

“I’ve healed you as well, several times now,” Ryan said slowly. “Coupled with Michael, the two of you make a horrible combination – one destined only for disaster. But, I think you’ve proved today that a little disaster every once in a while isn’t all that bad. I…can’t believe I am the one to say this, but perhaps you two suit each other, in a strange way. Like how two corrosive acids might neutralize one another.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jeremy said stiffly.

“The world is ending, is it not?” Ryan said, and there was something miserable to his smile. “Knowing that this past month has made me confront certain parts of myself, I suppose. I’ve spent so much of my life running, Jeremy, and now I am only tired. If you are to truly leave, I want to ask you a question, one that I asked myself perhaps hundreds of times.”

“What…do you want to ask?”

Ryan looked up, and his gaze was piercing, freezing Jeremy into place.

“What do you want from them?”

Jeremy stood up suddenly, so that his plate and tankard went scattering to the floor, spilling water and bits of uneaten food. He took a step towards Ryan, who looked up to him, his gaze infuriatingly steady, something empathetic shining in his eyes.

“I want nothing,” Jeremy said firmly. “You said so yourself, don’t you remember? I can never touch their world.” He turned his attention over to the statue of Geoff, staring benevolently down on them. The anger drained out of him suddenly, leaving him limp and empty. “Well, you were right. I’ve always known my place.”

“Jeremy,” Ryan said, alarmed. He stood up, and reached out as if to grab his arm, but Jeremy quickly maneuvered out of the way to storm deeper down into the caverns. He felt hot and ashamed, and wanted nothing more than to be alone. But Ryan followed after him, and in matter of seconds, overcame him, stepping in front of him with arms outstretched.

_Curse those long legs,_ Jeremy thought bitterly.

“Those were words borne out of fear, and things have changed. I have more to say-” Ryan cut himself off, and his eyes went wide, his pupils retracting to pinpricks as he stared in horror at something over Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy felt a wave of cold crash over him, causing all his hair to stand on end, and his skin to crawl. Slowly, Jeremy turned.

Standing behind them in the dank cavern hallway, its head almost brushing the ceiling, was an enderman. It was unnaturally tall and thin, as if every single one of its limbs had been stretched out. Its eyes blinked at them, the same slit purple eyes that had haunted Jeremy’s dreams for weeks. As the two of them gaped, it tilted its head, as if curious, regarding them carefully.

_How the hell had it gotten in here?_ Jeremy thought, horrified. All his life he had heard terrifying stories about endermen, but they had only seemed like myths at the time. Endermen were so scarcely seen that Jeremy doubted that they even existed. But now, Jeremy was staring one straight in its eyes, hypnotized, and there was no room for anymore doubt.

“Jeremy, come stand behind me,” Ryan said quietly, his voice calm. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”

Jeremy took a step backwards, and all at once the enderman surged forward, its jaw snapped open like a dark void. It shoved Jeremy roughly out of the way, arms lunging for Ryan’s throat, but Ryan had grabbed ahold of Jeremy’s arm. But whether it was to pull him close or push him away, he would never get to know, as everything suddenly snapped into blackness.

Pain crashed through him as every single part of him as his body seemed to fold in on itself. He opened his mouth to scream, but realized he couldn’t, as he didn’t have a mouth anymore. He didn’t exist at all either; he was just an embodiment of pain floating in blackness. And then, quickly as it came, it was over, and Jeremy blinked back into existence, sprawled across a cobblestone floor.

Jeremy gave a thick cough, his stomach lurching as the world steadied around him.

Above him, the sky was impossibly blue, and white clouds floated peacefully by. Music surged all around him, jaunty and loud, the kind of music that caught in your soul and urged you to dance. He could hear laughter as well, and people singing and cheering and talking joyously. It was if he had ended up in the middle of some sort of festival - there were tents set up of all sizes and colors, and streamers strung haphazardly between them. There were people as well, hundreds upon hundreds of them, surging between the tents wearing colorful outfits and costumes, masks and jester caps. Above it all loomed a massive, white castle, with red-capped turrets and roofs, like one would see in a story book.

 “What the hell?” Jeremy croaked. He sat up, and looked to see Ryan sitting next to him, holding his head and wincing. “Have we died?”

Ryan looked around, his brow furrowed. Several people in the costume of a dancing dragon sashayed by, spitting out a plume of purple flame that missed them by inches.

“It seems we’ve been teleported,” he said, blinking rapidly. A troupe of fire dancers spun around, tossing flaming batons expertly up into the air, where people balanced carefully on tight-ropes were able to catch them.

“He’s here!”

The crowd rushed towards them, clambering across the cobblestone pathway and pointing wildly at Ryan. They shoved Jeremy out of the way and swarmed around him, excitement flushing their faces.

“We’re glad you could make it!” a masked woman cried, placing a crown of flowers upon his head.

“We hope you enjoy yourself!” said another, tossing confetti into the air.

“He’s been waiting for you,” a man laughed as he did a small jig.

“Brent? Buckley? What the hell are all of you doing here?” Ryan asked, hands out as he pushed back the encroaching crowd.

A man clothed in black let out a chuckle as he swung around with his friend, smiles splitting both of their faces. “We’re having a feast!”

As they yanked Ryan further into the festival, coaxing him into dance, Jeremy stared at a jester that was dancing by him, his mouth open wide. The fool caught his eye and winked as he threw a couple balls in the air and began to juggle. With a shock, he realized that it was the jester that he had seen the first day when he had arrived in Achievement City, that had gotten harassed by the crowd. As the memory hit him, he recalled what the fool had said that day, and his blood ran cold.

A firework exploded in the sky like a crack of thunder, and gold spread like glitter above them. The crowd immediately began to cheer, turning to the castle as the music quieted.

“It’s him!” they cried, arms outstretched. “Our king is here!”

A singular figure appeared on the castle’s balcony in a puff of green smoke, and the crowd silenced.

“Welcome one! Welcome all!” the figure said, and his voice boomed loudly all around them. “Welcome, to the festival of fools!”

The crowd cheered and screamed, throwing confetti and flowers up into the air as the music burst out again. A few more fireworks unfurled in the sky like dazzling flowers.

“Oh dear,” Ryan said as the crowd pulled him onto their shoulders, pushing him closer to the man on the balcony.

The smoke around the figure cleared, and Jeremy could see he was dressed in elegant, green clothing, with the mask of a smiling jester shrouding his face. Despite that, Jeremy knew immediately who the man was.

It was Gavin.

“How is everyone enjoying the party?” he asked, throwing his hands up dramatically. “Are you all entertained?”

The crowd roared their agreement, and Jeremy flinched back.

“That’s good,” Gavin enthused, and jumped up so that he was perched on the balcony’s railing. “I would hate for anyone to be bored.”

“What…is this?” Ryan asked, struggling against the arms that were holding him aloft.

“My dear, lovely Ryan,” Gavin said, tilting his head. “I’m so happy you’re alright. The surface world is a right mess currently, is it not?”

“Gavin, what the hell is going on? Where are we?” Ryan said. The party-goers gently put him back on the ground, and he pointed an accusing finger up at the sky. “Is this one of your illusions?”

Gavin laughed, and with a graceful flip, leapt off the balcony and onto the ground in front of Ryan. The crowd cheered, and even Jeremy let out a few impressed claps before he realized what he was doing.

“Illusion, reality, does such a thing matter anymore?” Gavin asked, a bit breathlessly. Then, his eyes snapped to Jeremy’s, his hands still raised to clap. Gavin frowned, and Jeremy swallowed nervously, and put his hands down.

“Hey, Gavin. Nice uh, party you’ve got going here,” Jeremy stuttered, taking a step back as the king stalked towards him.

“What are you doing here?” Gavin asked, tilting his head. He looked back at Ryan, who was frantically pushing his way back over to them. “Oh! I see how it is. You two were together, weren’t you?” He let out an excited giggle. “I didn’t see that coming; you guys were really going at it before! I’m a bit disappointed you made up so quickly, honestly.”

“Gavin, this is no time for your games,” Ryan said.

“It’s not as if I didn’t want you here, Jeremy,” Gavin continued, ignoring Ryan completely. “I just wasn’t expecting you so soon – I had something different I wanted you to see. Well, no matter! I’ll just change a few things.” He called one of his partygoers over and whispered something in their ear. The man nodded and took off running into the castle.

“Geoff and I were worried sick about you,” Ryan said. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Where is Michael?”

“No need to worry about Michael – he’s fine,” Gavin said flippantly. “Just dying a slow and painful death. As you do.”

Ryan went completely still, his hands dropping to his side. “This is no times for jokes, either.”

“Why would I joke about such a thing?” Gavin exclaimed. Jeremy blinked, and the mask Gavin was wearing changed – the curling smile morphed into an exaggerated frown, and a small painted tear underneath his eye. “Poor, poor Michael never deserved this. But it won’t matter soon, anyway. I’ll be powerful enough that he’ll never have to worry about being betrayed ever again.” Gavin’s eyes slid to Jeremy’s, and he gave a slow wink.

“Powerful? Betrayed?” Ryan echoed. “What are you talking about? Let me see Michael, now.” He took a threatening step forward, and suddenly every single person in the clearing whipped around to stare at him, going completely silent. Ryan froze, his eyes wide.

“Careful, now,” Gavin said softly. “You’re in my domain.”

Ryan took a slow step back, his hands held up in surrender, and the festival reverted to normal, the music surging back in and the carefree chatter returning.

“It’s done, sire!” One of the party goers rushed forward, brandishing a large canvas. He turned it around so Jeremy could see that it was a rough drawing, one of him and Ryan. In the drawing, Jeremy had a rather dumb-looking expression - one that he really hoped wasn’t actually how he really looked - and Ryan’s face was scrunched up in fury, like he was about to step through the canvas and throttle whoever was looking at him.

“Ooh, it’s perfect!” Gavin exclaimed. “Jeremy, you like art, right? Should we make you a copy to commemorate the occasion?” Jeremy blinked at him. “Perfect! Make another, then.” The artist nodded enthusiastically and scampered off.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Ryan muttered. Someone had placed a jester’s cap on his head, and one of the bells dangled limply in front of his eyes.

Gavin’s mask had changed back to the unnatural grin, and he reached into his pocket to pull out a timepiece. “Ah! We have so much time to kill!” he exclaimed. “What should we do as we wait for the others?”

“How about you let us leave?” Ryan grumbled. A man in stilts did a little dance over his head, and dumped a pile of glitter around the stony-faced king.

“Oh, I know!” Gavin exclaimed, ignoring Ryan completely again. “Let’s share secrets. I know quite a few.”

“I don’t care about secrets,” Ryan said roughly. “Tell me where Michael is – I might be able to help him.”

“Are you sure?” Gavin said, tilting his head. He reached behind him and pulled out two puppets: one that looked similar to Ryan, with a large golden crown and a villainous grin, and one of some sort of strange, bipedal horned beast. “Wouldn’t you want Jeremy to know yours? Maybe if he knew, he’d stop looking at you with such condemnation in his eyes.”

Ryan didn’t answer, only stared warily at the puppets slowly swinging in Gavin’s grasp.

“No? Well, how about I tell Jeremy’s then?” Gavin asked, tossing the puppets to the side. Jeremy jolted as the kings turned their attention to him. “Honestly, it was a bitch to uncover – I had to do quite a lot of digging. But it was definitely worth it, I must say.” He stepped closer, and Jeremy could see his mask had changed to a sad one again, though Gavin’s eyes behind it were shining with amusement. “Poor, tragic Jeremy. No wonder why you act the way you do. You just can’t possibly believe that anyone could ever care about something like you.” He lifted an arm and traced a circle over the left side of Jeremy’s chest, right around his heart. Jeremy reeled violently backwards, stumbling on a bit of loose cobblestone and crashing to the floor below while Gavin squeaked in laughter.

“Gavin, that’s enough,” Ryan said firmly, leaning down to help Jeremy up. “You’re going too far.”

“Oh? You seem unsurprised. Do you already know about Jeremy, then?”

Ryan looked away, biting his lip. “I…had a strong theory,” he said.

_What the hell?_ Jeremy thought, head spinning. He looked up at Ryan’s almost pitying gaze, and over at Gavin’s grinning mask, and took another step back, wrapping his arms protectively over his chest.

“Well, that’s no fun,” Gavin said, and Jeremy could almost hear his pout. “Maybe we should wait until Lindsay arrives, then?”

“Lindsay?” Jeremy exclaimed, eyes wide. “She’s coming here?”

“Of course! We stand on the threshold of The End, now. All players of this horrible game will be present for the grand finale. I’m sure it will be tons of fun!”

“Then this place…this is a stronghold?” Ryan said, realization dawning on his face. “How did you find it? Did Jack-”

“Do not mention him here,” Gavin snapped.

Suddenly, the world around them broke. The tents and rolling green hills gave way to desolate rock and crags, and the brilliant blue sky bled away to a murky gray-green that seethed and rolled over a distorted sun. Jeremy could see hundreds of eyes surrounding them on all sides, slit and unblinking from beyond the castle. Streams of water fell from the heavens and splattered to earth below, forming overflowing puddles that were growing quickly and lapping at their feet, and the castle above them was crumbling and choked with limp seaweed and broken coral. Gavin stood in front of them, his clothes tattered and stained with blood, his eyes red and cheeks smudged with dirt, his expression desperate. He waved his hand, and the festival clipped back into existence, as if it had never been interrupted.

_This is just a dream,_ Jeremy thought, pressing a shaking hand to his head. _There’s no way any of this has been real._

“Gavin, if you’re planning what I think you are, you need to stop,” Ryan said quickly. He took a step forward and was immediately pulled back by two grinning party-goers. “You were always more susceptible than the rest of us. You won’t be able to- ” A hand slammed over his mouth.

“I’m not having fun anymore, Ryan,” Gavin said, voice deceptively calm. He snapped his fingers, and Ryan was yanked towards the castle, struggling to throw the arms off around him.

“Sorry about that, Jeremy,” Gavin said, and slung an arm around his shoulder. “There’s plenty you and I need to talk about...but why don’t we play a little game, first - a game of hide-and-seek?”

“Are you kidding?” Jeremy scoffed, looking nervously at Ryan’s figure disappearing into the castle. “I’m not playing anything with you.”

“I think you’ll find this game to be one you can’t refuse,” Gavin said. He spun Jeremy around in a small, slow circle. “Somewhere in this crowd are some people you love and miss very, very much. You will be the seeker, and if you correctly find them, I can give you an exciting reward. If you don’t…well, let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“You don’t mean…?” Jeremy said, heart thudding to a stop.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” Gavin laughed. “I suppose you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

Gavin let go of Jeremy and stepped backwards. Two jesters produced a tall chair for him and he sat in it with a flourish. He propped up his head with one hand, and pulled out a small hourglass with the other.

“So, what do you say, then, to one last game before The End?” Gavin asked.

Jeremy stared at Gavin’s glittering eyes behind his mask, at all of the laughing fools dancing and pointing around him, and he felt something in his chest harden.

“I say you’re on,” Jeremy said.

The grin on Gavin’s mask seemed to grow as he slowly flipped the hourglass over.


End file.
